The Darker Side by Cody McFadyen Read Free Book Online Page B

James, “or you’re not invited to my wedding.”
    He sneers. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
    “I can see how you might not consider it to be one, but”—and at this Callie smiles—“your mother would be very disappointed. We had a wonderful talk on the phone, Damien, and she’s looking forward to meeting the people you work with.”
    James scowls at her. “Don’t call me that.”
    I hide a smile and allow myself some secret satisfaction at Callie’s end run around James. I’ve never met his mother, but I know he visits Rosa’s grave with her every year on Rosa’s birthday, so in theory they are close.
    “You want to brief us here?” Alan asks, cutting through the banter.
    “Hold that thought,” AD Jones says. He turns to me. “Remember what I said. Keep me in the loop.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    One nod and he walks away without another word.
    “We have a car waiting over there,” I say. “Let’s get inside and fire up the heater and then I’ll brief you.”
    It’s a big Crown Vic, a little battered but serviceable. Alan takes the driver’s position, with me riding shotgun. James and Callie squeeze into the back.
    “Heat, please,” Callie says, rubbing her arms and giving off an overdramatic shiver.
    Alan starts the car and puts the heater on high. The big engine rumbles on idle as the heated air blasts out from the vents like wind from the mouth of a cave.
    “How’s that?” Alan asks.
    “Hmmmm,” Callie purrs. “So much better.”
    Alan gestures to me. “Floor is yours, then.”
     
    WHEN I FINISH TALKING, EVERYONE is silent, thinking. James looks out the window in the back. Callie, next to him, taps her front teeth with a red-painted fingernail.
    “Pretty theatrical,” she says after a moment. “Killing that poor woman mid-flight.”
    “A little too theatrical,” Alan replies.
    “Yes,” I muse, “but he pulled it off. He killed her on the plane—”
    “Her?” Alan snorts.
    I frown. “Legally, yes. It says ‘female’ on her driver’s license. What’s the problem?”
    He reaches his hands up, grips the steering wheel on either side, and squeezes, once. Blows air out of his mouth, a noisy sigh.
    “Look,” he says, “I don’t like transsexuals. I think it’s unnatural.” He shrugs. “I can’t help it. I dealt with a few tranny murders when I worked in the LAPD, and I did my job and I felt for the families—a person is a person—but it doesn’t change the truth. They disgust me on some level. Sometimes it slips out.”
    I gape at my friend, shocked. Absolutely, one hundred percent poleaxed. Am I really hearing this from Alan? Outside of an interrogation room, Alan is the calmest, fairest, most tolerant person I know. At least I’ve always thought so.
    “My, my, my, where have those clay feet been hiding?” Callie asks, echoing my own thoughts.
    “He’s a homophobe,” James says, the venom in his voice surprising me. “Right? You don’t like fags, do you, Alan?”
    Alan rotates in his seat so he can look at James. “I’m not a fan of seeing guys kiss, but no, I’m not a homophobe. I don’t care who you screw. There’s a big difference between that and cutting off your breasts or chopping off your cock.” He scowls. “This is my ‘thing,’ okay? I’m not saying it’s right or that it makes sense, and frankly, I don’t want a bunch of crap about it. Elaina’s given me a piece of her mind on the subject already, and it just doesn’t seem to change. It won’t affect how I do my job.”
    “Tell us the truth,” Callie says, her voice solicitous. “Was it a woman you picked up one time? Lots of tongue-kissing and then you reached down and found sticks and berries?”
    Alan groans. “Fuck this. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
    “You’re right,” I say. “You shouldn’t have. If you let that kind of comment slip around the family…”
    He nods, chastened. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
    “Not homophobic, huh?” James says.
    I glance at him,