Ammo and Enchiladas Read online

  Travis needed him, and he liked Brant a lot. He loved the bigger group of guys up here, and to be honest, he was still…. That bomb damn near broke him. The shooting, the aftermath, the way some people were still super careful to tiptoe around him…. He needed a change. Maybe he’d see his folks more too.

  Hell, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was going to do. Good thing he didn’t have to worry about it right now.

  He had time off, he had Travis to get through this day, at least, and he had a dinner to reschedule. Lex patted Travis’s back. “Better?”

  “No, but I’m going to make it. I’m going to just… stay here. Breathe.”

  “Sack out on my air mattress if you need to. I’ll go check on stuff, shake some hands for you.” He wanted to see if anyone needed him to make one more run or lift anything. Martha was wearing down.

  “I think I’ll just… sit and lock the door. Holler when you need me.”

  “I will, honey.” He kissed Travis on the cheek before slipping out the door. Travis could calm down. He heard it lock before heading down the stairs. Kitchen first.

  “Señora Martha? You need anything?”

  “Thank you, sweetie. You’ve done a ton. How’s Travis?”

  “Hysterical. I locked him in the office upstairs for a bit.” Lex gave her a one-armed hug. “It smells amazing in here. Can I grab a corner of counter and make some cookies?”

  “You surely can. You just take all you need.”

  “Thanks.” He would start with the biscochitos. The creaming of lard with sugar and the smell of anise soothed him on a cellular level. This was the scent of home and Christmas, of potlucks and Abuelita.

  He found the mixer and cookie sheets. He thought maybe they’d been wedding gifts and were largely untouched. Travis and Matt had done takeout, and then, apparently, box delivery meals. They’d only cooked together under the most controlled of circumstances.

  It was nice stuff. Seriously. Lex was jealous.

  He chuckled, because his mama would tell him to get married and he would get all that nice stuff too. If he could just find some nice boy who wanted to fuck twice a day and share kitchens….

  Lex shook it off. No thinking of fucking today. He was a dipshit, but he wasn’t nasty.

  “Is there any Dr Pepper?” Brantley sounded wrecked.

  “Hey. Yeah, here.” He dug in the fridge, pulled out a can for Brant. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just got accosted by a reporter outside. Tired of talking to people.”

  “I hear you.” Poor Brant. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

  “Eh. I’m fine. What can I do?”

  “I’m just making cookies. Martha?” He wanted Brant to sit down, actually.

  “Sit and chop celery and onions, son.”

  “Sure.” Brant plopped into a chair, so Lex got him set up with a knife and stuff.

  “Thanks.” Brant bent his head to business and started chopping.

  Lex watched him for a moment. What the hell had that reporter said? “Do I need to call my guy at the precinct?”

  “What? No. No, it was just fishing. I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “Nope. That’s true.”

  Martha sighed. “They’re like those toothy fish.”

  “Piranhas?” Brant asked.

  “That’s it. They bite and bite until there ain’t nothin’ left.”

  “I guess it’s their job.” Brant shrugged. “They just don’t understand that they keep opening it up over and over.”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Martha said. “I know how hard this is for you.”

  “Bah.” Brant looked up at Martha, winked at her. “I’m fine.”

  “Hmm.” She shook her head, lifting her face for a kiss from her husband as he walked in.

  Lex went back to rolling out cookies. He could be quick as a bunny when he got into it. It was easy as pie. Or cookies. What have you. He cut out some plain rounds, then found a star cutter. That was better. He didn’t imagine either Travis or Matt would care, but he would know.

  Once the first batch was in the oven, he cleaned out the mixer bowl and started on the chocolate chip.

  “You’re a machine, Lex. You want to come bake for us in Texas?”

  “I’d be happy to. How much do you pay?” He winked at Martha.

  “We can pay in brisket….” John waggled his eyebrows at Lex, playing even as tired as he was.

  “I love that.” He added two more batches to his list. He’d send them home with the Texans.

  “Excellent. We’ll pack you up and take you home with us in the pickup.”

  “I require Mexican food weekly, at least. Otherwise I can survive on greasy burgers and fries.”

  “Burgers and fries are one of our specialties.” Martha was all grins.

  “They’re better than Whataburger,” Brant said.

  “Yeah, but are they better than Blake’s?”

  “Mmm. Well, the green chile is better here.” Brant grinned over at Martha. “The guacamole is too.”

  “Is it? Maybe we’ll leave closer to lunch tomorrow so we can stop and have some.” Martha lit up a little. Someone liked guac.

  “You should run to Garcia’s if you get a chance.”

  Oh, good one. “Nice,” Lex said. “Anywhere but Garduño’s.”

  Brant cracked up, the laughter ringing out, filling the air.

  Martha just smiled, but Lex was so damn happy to see Brant laugh. They all needed it, but Brant had been looking used up.

  “What’s funny?” Travis asked as he walked in.

  “The guys were telling us where to avoid, foodwise,” Martha said.

  “Garduño’s,” Travis intoned, which set them off again. Travis actually smiled. “What smells so good?”

  “Brisket,” Brant said.

  “Biscochitos.” That was Martha.

  Lex went with “Potato salad.”

  “I think it all smells yummy.” Travis was trying really hard. “I would love a cookie when they come out, huh?”

  “Sure. Absolutely. You want a Coke?”

  “Is there tea?”

  “Of course there is,” Martha said. “In the fridge.”

  “Thank you. I’m not looking for the burn.” Travis headed for the fridge. “Are we all ready for this?”

  “We’re getting there,” Lex murmured. “We can do it.”

  Brant nodded. “It’ll be fast.”

  Travis looked at Brant, lips tight, and Brant looked away.

  Lex fought not to roll his eyes or slap Travis on the back of the head. Seriously.

  “You know I didn’t shoot him, right?” Brant’s voice was full of ice. Pure fucking ice.

  Oh fuck.

  Martha closed her eyes, her hands stilling.

  “I know that,” Travis snapped.

  “Then quit treating me like I’m to blame. I was his best friend for his whole life. I miss him too.”

  “I’m sorry! I just know you were with him. I can’t help it.”

  “Now, Travis, you stop it,” Martha snapped. “Matty would never want you to treat Brant bad, and he did all he could.”

  “Cut me some slack! I’m just trying to get through this. Can’t you just go home, Brant? Just leave me the fuck alone for a second? You’re acting like you lost your husband.”

  John Isham lifted his head, fury written as clear as a signature in black ink, but Brantley just held up one hand, shook his head.

  Brant took a deep breath, and Lex could see it, how Travis was about to get his head torn all off. Once the blood started flowing there, it was going to suck so hard. It didn’t happen, though. Brantley just stood up and left out the kitchen slider without a word.

  “Damn, man.” Lex tossed a glare at Travis before following Brant out.

  Brant was already in his car, the engine revving up, Brantley’s cheeks a bright, dark red.

  Lex waved at him, hoping to get him to rethink.

  Brantley rolled down his window, shook his head. �
�I’m going home, bud. I’m not welcome here.”

  “You’re not just here for Travis.” Martha and John liked Brantley there. “Will you at least come to the service? You have a right to be there.”

  “I’ll do my best. I can stand in the back.” Well, that was a no. Goddamn. He got that Travis was losing his mind, but….

  “Travis wants me up front. I—I can come back after.” He wanted to help Brant, who had to be hurting, and Travis was his best friend. Christ. Why wasn’t everything as easy as cookies?

  Brant shrugged. “You’re here for him. It’s cool. Seriously. I’m good.”

  One of the land-shark reporters noticed them and started toward Brant’s SUV. He rolled his eyes and started to warn Brant, but Brant followed his gaze.

  “Damn. They don’t have something else to talk about? Surely we’ve had another murder or two for them to chew on.”

  “Easy. I’ll get rid of them.” Fuck, he wished he had his badge on him.

  “I’m leaving anyway. I’m not welcome here. Call me when you can. I’ll make you enchiladas. Maybe when you get back to town. Rumor is you come in once every ten years.”

  “Sure. Maybe even sooner than that.” He wanted that date night kind of intensely.

  “Soon. Go save your cookies.” Brant waved, then pulled out, damn near hitting the reporter on the way.

  Lex headed back inside, walk turning into a run when he heard screaming.

  “…selfish little bastard! Matt loved Brant to death! They’ve been friends since they were babies, and you’re going to drive him away!”

  To his utter shock, it wasn’t Matt’s mother who was screaming. No. No, it was Travis’s.

  “Mom!” Travis held his hands up, backing away from her. “He could have saved him. He should have!”

  “Lex. You saw the tape.” John Isham stared at Travis, then turned to Lex. “Is that true? Was there anything Brantley could have done?”

  “No.” Lex said it flatly. “And that’s my expert opinion as a cop. Brant had no time to intercede, and Matt died instantly.” Time for some tough love from him too. “You’re being unreasonable, Travis. Not gonna lie.”

  “You’re here for me. Not him. I need you. I’m allowed to be unreasonable right now! I loved him.”

  “So did I.” Martha stared Travis down, pinned him like a bug on a board, the pain in her voice so vast there was no way to describe it. “He was my baby. I held him under my heart for thirty-nine weeks. You talk about loving him? I am his momma. I lived for him. So did John. So did Brantley. We were all here first.”

  “Martha.” John caught her, just as she collapsed under the weight of her agony.

  Well, fuck.

  Lex helped haul Martha into the closest chair.

  Travis crumpled. “I can’t do this.”

  His mom went to take his hands, suddenly calm and collected in the middle of this emotion windstorm like she’d never lost her shit. “You will. Now, let’s go get dressed. You can’t go like this.”

  She eased him out of the kitchen, toward the stairs, and Lex just watched him go.

  “Save your cookies, Lex.” Martha sighed and stood slowly. “Lex, forgive me. John, I want to go home right after the service, okay?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “I’ll stay,” Lex offered. He grabbed an oven mitt. “Travis is not good in emotionally charged situations, and he and Matt were a tiny bit codependent.”

  “You’re a good boy. I bet Matt adored you.”

  “I liked him a lot.” He really hadn’t known him all this time. Not really. Lex felt bad about that. He probably would have liked Matt a lot, so that wasn’t a lie. He loved Travis dearly, like you loved your bitchy brother. Matt and Brantley had been best friends. Ever after all the years.

  Sighing, he changed out cookies, getting the chocolate chip in the oven.

  Chapter Eight

  BRANTLEY WENT to the store and bought beer, Velveeta, Ro-Tel, and tortilla chips.

  He was going to celebrate Matt in his own way. He had The Mummy, The Matrix, and the entire Lord of the Rings series. He intended to eat and drink and watch their favorite movies.

  Fuck services. Fuck Travis. Fuck everyone.

  He sighed, resting his head on the steering wheel. He wasn’t responsible for Matt’s death. He wasn’t.

  Maybe he’d have a nap first, something long and helped by the Xanax in his pocket.

  He headed inside, his house smelling a little like pizza. He’d indulged with Matt’s folks day before last. He opened up the windows and turned on the fans.

  Okay. Okay, couch. Then queso. He needed some rest.

  After the last few days, he needed a goddamn nap.

  Brant sat down, but before he could even stretch out, his phone buzzed. Jesus fuck. He grabbed it, looked.

  Hope ur ok. That was from Lex.

  Yeah. Thx. U?

  Ok. All dressed. Lex sent him a selfie. White shirt, black tie. He looked a little like a door-to-door religious guy.

  V. nice. He settled in the cushions. Gonna have my own memorial.

  Sounds more fun than mine.

  What was he supposed to say to that? Fuck yeah? Beer. Queso. Movies.

  Have some for me.

  Will do. I hope it goes well. Because he did. He loved Travis. That was why he was staying home.

  See you soon I hope. Lex was a sweetheart. He really was.

  Anytime.

  He dropped his phone on the ottoman, laughing as Mouse pounced him from the top of the hutch. “Oof! You heavy bastard! Where are Peaches and Cream?”

  Mouse yawned, showing those super sharp teeth.

  “Yeah, yeah. If you scared them, I’ll let the girls eat you.” He imagined that the twins were still sound asleep on his pillows. They only woke for food and evil.

  Mouse was his buddy, weighing him down on the couch.

  That was all right. Matty approved of naps.

  LEX SAT in the guest room, which was his now, staring at the wall.

  He felt… kinda run over by a truck. Both sets of parents had left right after the ceremony, after Travis had wailed and ranted and tossed a couple of floral arrangements….

  Christ on a sparkly crutch.

  He eased off his dress shoes. At least he wasn’t on the floor. When he checked his phone, hoping for Brant, he saw Dusty. So he called.

  “How’s it going, honey?” Dusty’s voice was soft, gentle, like a breath of fresh air.

  “Oh, man, it’s been intense. Travis, my friend? He’s losing his shit.”

  “Yeah? Not handling it well?”

  His snort was shockingly loud. “There was no casket to toss himself over and pound on, but that’s about all he didn’t do.”

  “You sure he isn’t Southern?”

  “He’s a drama llama, but at this point, he’s family. Lord. Should I order food? There are surprisingly few leftovers. None of his friends brought much, and Matt’s mama’s brisket is all gone.”

  “That’s… weird. That’s really weird, Lex. Aren’t Travis’s friends teachers?”

  “Yeah. I mean, they’re all hipsters, Dusty. Like, younger than us by ten years. The two older ladies brought desserts, and Travis isn’t huge on anything but cookies and pie, so I sent one home each with the parents since the pans were disposable.” He’d been organizing like a general, and he wanted to call his old sergeant to thank the man for instilling organization in him.

  “Tell me someone brought avocado toast or craft beer.” Dusty hooted like an old owl. “What about the other guy? The friend?”

  “Brant? Travis ran him off. Stone-cold looked him in the eye and said he didn’t want Brant here.” That had made him ashamed of Travis, and he was going to have to say it.

  “Oh, ouch. He didn’t have anything to do with it, right? We all saw the TV footage. Looked like he was in the car until the very end.”

  “He was. And Matt died instantly. I just… I love Trav, I do. But God knows, bad shit happens. I’m not as
patient as I used to be.” He undid his pants. Maybe he would take a shower.

  “No, and we’ve all seen a lot. We understand that we lose sometimes, you know?”

  “I think that’s a good part of it. Travis hasn’t lost anything but grandparents, and he was super young when they died. His mom….” Lex had been happy to see lucidity in flashes, but she was definitely forgetful and easily confused.

  “Well, that sucks, doesn’t it? You heading home soon?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have a beer when I do.”

  “Fair enough. Is there anything we can do for you, buddy?”

  “Just keep my plant alive.” He chuckled. His plant. Lord.

  “Will do. You call whenever you need.”

  “Thanks, Dusty.” Lex really appreciated everything the guys did for him.

  “Anytime, buddy. Anytime.”

  God, he didn’t want to open the door. He so didn’t want to face Travis.

  He stripped off his clothes, then pulled on some sweats. Shower. Then he would see what Trav wanted for supper. One thing at a time. First, he’d just creep down the hall, nice and slow.

  Travis wouldn’t even hear him. Good thing there was no dog.

  Brantley had cats.

  Cats.

  That thought made him grin. Persians, with the smooshy faces. Maine coon he wasn’t sure about. That didn’t sound like a New Mexico kitty, but who knew.

  He wanted to see Brant’s house, wanted to get to know the man a little more.

  He would hang out a few more days if he could get Brant to let him come over…. He jumped about a mile when he heard Travis’s bedroom door open.

  “I thought that was you. You want a beer?”

  “I do.” That was the first good thing Travis had said all day.

  “Cool.” Travis looked like he was almost calm. Lex was ninety-nine percent sure it was a lie.

  But he would have a beer. He could always storm off and take a shower if things went bad. “Better now it’s quieter?” Lex asked.

  “Yeah. It was a little intense in here.”

  “Must have been.” He dared to tease gently, softening it with a smile.

  “Yeah. You know, I didn’t go with Matt that night because I wanted some time to myself. I mean, the guys went to the movies a lot.”