Page 24 of Sunset Savage

He nods and leads the way. I let him do it, and he doesn’t release my wrist, like he forgot he was touching me. I should pull free but I like the feeling of his fingers right now, and having him so close is keeping me from freaking out too much.

Above us, a single pull cord dangles from a square sliced into the drywall. He grabs it and yanks, and the stairs come down with a slow, agonizing creak. Once they’re set, he holds up a hand.

“I’ll go first.” Slowly, he climbs the steps, and disappears inside.

There’s silence.

“Baptist?” My chest is on fire. What if he’s getting eaten by raccoons? What if he found a ghost? Okay, there’s no ghost, but still—rabid raccoons are a real possibility.

“Come up, Webb.”

I follow him, palms slick with sweat. When I reach the top, I find him standing stooped beneath a pitched ceiling, and several feet away, standing in front of what looks like a work bench randomly thrown on top of some plywood and surrounded by insulation, is Cowan.

“Took you two long enough,” he says, scowling. “Didn’t I say to come meet me in my workshop?” He bangs a hammer against something, glaring. “And now you’ve interrupted my work.”

“What are you doing?” Baptist asks. “Your house is totally empty. You’re standing in an empty attic hammering what looks like a bunch of random pieces of wood.”

“You seem to have it all figured out.” Cowan grins at me and winks. “Lovely seeing you again, suit.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, exasperated.

“I’m moving,” he says. “Got sick of the raccoons. But my workspace is still here, and I want to finish before we get going on the film in earnest.” He holds up a small, brass object, glinting slightly in the low light as it seeps in through the roof vents. It takes a moment to understand it’s a key.

“Is that to your new place?” I ask, trying not to scream at him. This is weird, even by his standards.

“This is for you.” He tosses it over. I yelp and Baptist snatches it from the air before it can slam into my face. Cowan glares at him and shrugs. “Either one of you can hold it, I suppose it doesn’t matter. But keep that key safe. You’ll need it.”

“Need it for what?” Baptist asks, looking angry and on the verge of losing his cool.

“Now, it’s perfect you’re both here,” Cowan says, clapping hard once and changing the subject. I flinch at the sudden noise and again Baptist moves closer to me. “We have some paperwork to sign and I have some things I need you to procure for me.” He roots around in a drawer on his bench until he pulls out a crumpled piece of yellowed paper. “Here you go.”

Baptist takes it from him. “What’s this?”

“Items I need for the film. Did the suit fill you in?”

“Webb told me the film’s about an addict.” He squints at the paper. “Lionfish? Is that a real animal?”

“It’s about more than an addict,” Cowan says and sweeps past us. He disappears down the steps, yelling back at us as he does. “It’s about wanting. It’s about pure existential need divorced of image. It’s about the truth, the real truth!”

I exchange a look with Baptist and roll my eyes before we hurry after him.

“Truth or not, we have paperwork,” I say, catching up with him down in the foyer.

“Take it to my lawyers.”

“We already did that. You have to sign.”

“I do not have to do anything.” He hurries down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, he stops and turns around, hands on his hips, grinning. “But I will if you fetch something for me.”

I exchange a look with Baptist. He doesn’t seem happy, but I’m not even a little bit surprised. I head down and join Cowan in the foyer, and Baptist places himself slightly between us like he’s purposefully putting me behind him.

“Why can’t you have your assistant pick up your laundry?” Baptist asks.

“I suppose I could give him a producer’s credit as well.” Cowan looks disgusted as he turns away.

“We’ll do it. Whatever it is.” I give Baptist a sharp look. He’s about to contradict me but his mouth snaps shut and he looks annoyed, but not about to blow this up in my face. “Just tell me what you need.”

Cowan turns back, grinning sharply. “I knew you were a shark, suit. I saw it the second you walked into my life.”


Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime