The Crooked Street

36

Frost sat alone in his SUV for nearly half an hour after the meeting was over and Hayden and Cyril had both left. There were few signs of life in the homeless city underneath the freeway. He watched a stray dog nose among the tents, and every now and then a hand poked out with food. When the dog barked at a rat scurrying under the barbed wire fence, Shack stirred from his nap on the dashboard and peered through the windshield. Then he curled back into a tight ball and fell asleep again.

Trent Gorham may be Lombard.

The idea sounded crazy.

And yet it was impossible to ignore the fact that Gorham had been hiding his role in the Denny Clark case from the very beginning.

As the cold seeped inside the truck, Frost finally drove away under the freeway. Car engines roared from the lanes overhead, and headlights splashed across the pavement. At the end of the block, he debated which way to turn. He was tired, but he was so close to Duane’s food truck that he knew he should stop and see his brother. There were things he needed to say. It was late, and the food park was closed, but Duane would still be there. He always was.

Frost drove two blocks until he saw the kaleidoscope of painted food trucks under the streetlights. Most of the cars outside had left, so he parked near the gate and strolled inside. A few customers lingered with drinks on the benches, but the serving windows on the trucks were closed and locked. He headed for the rear fence, where Duane’s truck had a permanent location. He had to step aside as one of the large vans rumbled past him toward the exit. Muffled Spanish music played from inside a paella truck. The inviting aromas of dinner hung in the air.

Near Duane’s truck, a chalk sign still advertised the evening menu. Short ribs braised in mirin and soy. Edamame tortilla salad. Monterey chicken egg rolls. Raymonde’s waka waka guacamole, whatever that was.

He went around to the back and then stopped short.

Duane sat on the rear steps outside the truck door. His white chef’s coat was unbuttoned, revealing a black T-shirt underneath, and he wore only cargo shorts. His feet were bare. His long black hair was loose. He clutched the neck of an expensive bottle of tequila and swigged it, letting some of the alcohol spill onto his coat.

His brother, who almost never drank, was drunk.

“Duane?” Frost asked. “Are you okay?”

“Hello, bro!” Duane told him in a loud voice. “Sorry, you just missed Tabby. She left half an hour ago.”

There was something in the way Duane said Tabby’s name that made Frost stiffen with concern. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” Duane took another extended swallow of Patrón. “Tabby ended it with me, that’s what’s going on. She and I are over. Done.”

“What?” Frost felt as if a snake had wrapped itself around his chest and begun to squeeze. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that the one woman I have ever loved in my entire life just told me she was really sorry, but she doesn’t love me anymore, and she doesn’t want to lead me on or prolong the pain or pretend to feel something that she doesn’t. So that’s it. Engagement off. Thanks for the memories.”

“Oh my God,” Frost said. “Duane, I am so sorry. I can’t believe it.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know it’s not me. It’s her. It’s all her. I’m a great guy, and she hates the idea of hurting me. I shouldn’t blame myself. That made me feel so much better.”

Frost struggled with what to say. He’d expected bad things after the previous night, but he hadn’t expected this. “Give her some time, Duane. I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s just confused. This isn’t about you and her, it’s about everything else that’s going on in her life. I’m telling you, this is not the end for you two.”

Duane blinked at him through drunken eyes. His jaw hardened with anger. “Well, at least she has a shoulder to cry on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. If Duane’s too busy and doesn’t have time, she can always run to Frost. My brother is always right there for her.”

He felt heat on his face. “Duane, come on.”

“Come on nothing. Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I haven’t noticed how the two of you are together?”

“There is nothing between us,” Frost insisted, but his denial felt limp and false even as he said it.

“Oh, who are you trying to kid? I saw it all over your face last night. And hers, too.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Last night was awkward, I know that. She and I both drank way too much. That’s all it was. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to happen.”

“You were about to kiss her! You call that nothing? Are you saying the two of you wouldn’t have ended up on the floor after that?”

“No way,” Frost told him. “No way in hell. I would never do that to you.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that I catch the two of you together last night, and today Tabby breaks up with me?”

Frost shook his head. His mouth felt dry, and his stomach was sick. He couldn’t deny the truth of what Duane said. This was no coincidence. This was his own fault. “I swear I did not see this coming, Duane. I knew Tabby was unhappy, that’s all she told me.”

“And you didn’t play a role in any of this? Is that your story? Come on, Frost, you can do better than that. I know you have feelings for Tabby. Was this your plan all along? Break us up so you can have her for yourself?”

“If you think I would ever deliberately come between you and your fiancée, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Oh, I know you too damn well, Frost. Nobody knows you better than me.”

Duane leaped off the steps of the food truck and shoved both hands hard against Frost’s chest, forcing him backward. Frost regained his footing and had to stop himself from responding in kind.

“Knock it off, Duane. You’re upset, I get it. You’re hurting. I’m hurting for you, too. I can’t believe this is happening to the two of you, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” his brother yelled. “That’s all you have to say? This is your fault! Everything was great between me and Tabby, and then suddenly, she was moody and distant and upset, and I didn’t understand what she was going through and I was pushing her too hard. You know when that happened, Frost? You know when Tabby started pulling away from me? When I introduced her to you.”

“Duane, listen to me,” Frost began, but his brother interrupted him.

“Screw that! I don’t want any more excuses from you. You never answered my question. Tell me the truth. Are you in love with Tabby?”

Frost lowered his voice. “Whatever’s going on here is between you and her. This has nothing to do with how I feel.”

“In other words, yes.”

“In other words, I’m done. I’m leaving. You need to cool down.”

He began to turn away, and he took his eyes off Duane for a second. He heard the swish of his brother’s sleeve and a rush of air as Duane’s arm swung toward his face. Frost dodged but not fast enough, and Duane’s fist collided with his chin. The impact snapped Frost’s head back, and he staggered as pain shot through his jaw. Duane swore as his hand stung with the blow.

Frost felt his own fists open and close. He took a slow, deep breath and tried not to listen to the roaring in his head. He had to go now, or he’d regret what happened next.

“I’m not fighting with you, Duane,” he warned him, but his own anger rose out of his chest. As he spoke, he tasted the copper of blood in his mouth.

He headed for the gate, but Duane bellowed after him and charged. His brother threw himself into Frost’s back, and Frost stumbled forward and nearly fell. When he got his balance back, he tried to walk away again, but Duane jumped across the distance between them and grabbed Frost’s shoulder. This time, Frost lost it. As Duane spun him back, Frost unleashed his left fist on his brother’s face. The impact hammered Duane’s nose, which broke with a spray of blood. Duane crashed down. He looked up from the ground, blood smeared across his face and pouring from his nostrils, his eyes wide with shock.

Frost stood over him. They were both breathing hard.

“Okay, Duane. You want me to say it? I’ll say it. You’re right. I do have feelings for Tabby. I didn’t want it to happen. I wish it weren’t true. But I have never told her that I felt that way, and I would never let anything happen between us. The only thing I ever wanted was to see the two of you happily married. That’s the truth.”

His brother swore at him from the ground, long and loud. Over and over.

“See you, Duane,” Frost muttered, rubbing his swollen jaw.

He walked away, but Duane’s curses chased him out of the food park and onto the street, getting softer and more distant, like an echo slowly sinking into a deep canyon.