Downtime by Tamara Allen Read Free Book Online Page A

when no one answered, I went inside. Half expecting a wooden board with a hole carved in it, I was relieved to find a fairly regular-looking toilet. A shower and a shave was probably too much to ask for. I’d just do that when I got home.
     
    I went to Ezra’s room and knocked. He came to the door already dressed. “An early bird,” I noted. “Well, that figures.” Most of the people I didn’t get along with turned out to be morning people, including Leonard—well, and Reese, but I’d put up with it for the sake of supposed true love.
     
    Ezra swung the door open so I could come in. “I detect a note of contempt,” he remarked, “but you’re up already too.”
     
    “If I were home, I’d be in bed another five hours. I don’t sleep as well in a strange bed.”
     
    “You have my sympathy. What are you doing?” he added as I reached for my jeans. “You aren’t going to breakfast in those clothes?”
     
    “I’m wearing my own stuff, pal. If Kathleen doesn’t like it, she can kick me out.” I dragged on the jeans and tugged my shirt over my head.
     
    He didn’t say anything until I’d dropped onto his window seat to put on my sneakers. “If we should meet with any difficulty in sending you back—”
     
    “You won’t.”
     
    “But if we do—”
     
    “You brought me here. You’re sending me home. If you have to spend the whole day reading every word of that book, you’re going to. If we need to spend the night in the damned museum to get it done, so be it. That’s the plan and there’s no Plan B.” Double-knotting my laces, I got up, strapped on my gun, and pulled my jacket on over it. “Are you ready to go?”
     
    He sighed. “Do you mind if we have a bite of breakfast?”
     
    “You sure Kathleen will feed a disreputable slob like me?” I picked up the comb on the dresser and ran it through my hair.
     
    “I don’t know that I could say for certain.”
     
    I tossed down the comb. “I’m sure there’s a restaurant or two out there that won’t turn me away.”
     
    “Even though you can’t pay the bill?”
     
    He seemed to enjoy trying to provoke me. I could provoke right back with the best of them. “Maybe, since you’re the one who brought me here, you could pay it with the cash you scammed off Mrs. Hastings last night.”
     
    The corners of his mouth turned up in what seemed embarrassment. “Derry told you. He tends to make more of it than it is.”
     
    “Yeah, I’ll bet. You know, I’ve arrested con men like you. You’re just about one of the lowest forms of life around. Taking money out of the pockets of grieving people—damn, I don’t know how you live with that. Looks like you’ve even managed to con Derry.”
     
    The flash of pain in his eyes caught me off guard. Usually when I hauled someone in, I didn’t bother to lecture them. They knew they’d broken the law and they knew they were going to be paying the consequences. Railing at them seemed superfluous. But there were one or two types who brought out my dad in me, and con artists were one of them, especially cons who took advantage of people who were already hurting. When I did give them hell, I invariably got a whole pathetic spectrum of attitude, from assertions of innocence to a revolting righteousness that I had no appreciation for the special power God had bestowed on them.
     
    But this was a new one. Genuine pain, as if I’d actually hurt the sorry bastard. “I suppose now you’re going to tell me you were trying to reassure Derry that his wife was waiting for him somewhere just around the corner.”
     
    Ezra’s lips parted, then he swallowed whatever he was going to say and turned away. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”
     
    I let him go, doubting I’d done anything to prick his conscience and make him give up the scam. I’d never met a reformed con artist. Once it was in their blood, it was there to stay. And there was not much else I could do. I couldn’t arrest him or drag