Coleman stood just inside the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared up at Ace’s most recent works of art. When he saw me approach, he grinned.
“Quiet around here, Kavanaugh.”
Jeff was an inch or so shorter than my own five-nine, with a salt-and-pepper buzz cut. A life lived hard showed in his face. He’d been in the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, and taken over his mother’s tattoo shop about ten years ago. He used to smoke like a chimney but gave it up recently. There were some allusions to drinking and drugs, but by all appearances, he wasn’t into all of that now. At least not that I’d seen.
“Let everyone go early,” I said. “I’m leaving shortly myself.” I glanced quickly out the glass door to see if Harry was around yet, but I didn’t see him.
“Expecting someone?” Jeff asked, coming toward me.
I shrugged. “I sort of have a date. But I have to cancel.”
“That’s harsh, Kavanaugh. Canceling when he shows up. Why don’t you just call him?”
“I can’t. I don’t have his number.”
He frowned, but to his credit didn’t say anything. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Maybe I want to check out the competition,” he said. “See how the other half lives.”
Jeff liked to try to get under my skin about how I had a more upscale shop, where we did only custom tattoos, as compared to his street shop where he only did flash, the stock tattoos that lined the walls of his shop. I hate to admit it, but it usually worked.
Not tonight, though. I was too distracted by Harry’s impending arrival.
“Really, Jeff, why are you here?”
“Maybe I’m a little worried about you. You know, those pictures on that blog. I got the sense that it shook you up a bit.” He noticed I was looking outside again. “Are you expecting the doc?”
He meant Colin Bixby. I shook my head. “No.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “You have a new boyfriend?”
I made a face at him.
“A new girlfriend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me why you’re here.”
The smile disappeared. “I was worried about you, like I said. I don’t like the idea of pictures of you showing up on that blog, that someone’s saying you’re to blame for that girl’s death.”
I studied his face, looking for any sign of a joke, that he was teasing me. But he really seemed sincere. Stranger things have happened, I’m sure, but I couldn’t think of any right at the moment. “Tim’s on top of it,” I said. “In fact, I don’t even need to go out anymore—that’s what I have to tell Harry.”
“Harry?”
“Harry Desmond.”
Jeff’s expression was incredulous. “Harry Desmond? That’s who your date is?”
“What of it? You know him?”
He barked out a laugh. “You surprise me, Kavanaugh.”
I had no clue what he was talking about.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me Harry’s been hanging around here these days?”
I made a face. “He’s been here almost every day for the last month or so.”
“I wondered where he went.”
It began to dawn on me what Jeff was talking about. “He hung around Murder Ink, too?” I asked.
“He didn’t just hang around, Kavanaugh. He worked for me.”
Now this was something I hadn’t expected. “Worked for you? How?”
Jeff cocked his head to the side, studying me for a second. “How would you think? I own a tattoo shop. He worked for me. Do you think maybe he was one of my artists?” It came out way too sarcastically, but I didn’t call him on it. I was too shocked.
“He’s a tattooist? He told us he got laid off.”
“Well, that’s not exactly accurate. I fired his ass.” Jeff’s face grew dark, and I wondered what it was Harry had done. But I didn’t have to wonder too long. “He botched a tattoo. Pretty bad.”
My chest constricted.
“He hasn’t asked you for a job?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head.
“He probably knows you’d need some background on him, and I’d tell you what he did.”
“He told
“Quiet around here, Kavanaugh.”
Jeff was an inch or so shorter than my own five-nine, with a salt-and-pepper buzz cut. A life lived hard showed in his face. He’d been in the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, and taken over his mother’s tattoo shop about ten years ago. He used to smoke like a chimney but gave it up recently. There were some allusions to drinking and drugs, but by all appearances, he wasn’t into all of that now. At least not that I’d seen.
“Let everyone go early,” I said. “I’m leaving shortly myself.” I glanced quickly out the glass door to see if Harry was around yet, but I didn’t see him.
“Expecting someone?” Jeff asked, coming toward me.
I shrugged. “I sort of have a date. But I have to cancel.”
“That’s harsh, Kavanaugh. Canceling when he shows up. Why don’t you just call him?”
“I can’t. I don’t have his number.”
He frowned, but to his credit didn’t say anything. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Maybe I want to check out the competition,” he said. “See how the other half lives.”
Jeff liked to try to get under my skin about how I had a more upscale shop, where we did only custom tattoos, as compared to his street shop where he only did flash, the stock tattoos that lined the walls of his shop. I hate to admit it, but it usually worked.
Not tonight, though. I was too distracted by Harry’s impending arrival.
“Really, Jeff, why are you here?”
“Maybe I’m a little worried about you. You know, those pictures on that blog. I got the sense that it shook you up a bit.” He noticed I was looking outside again. “Are you expecting the doc?”
He meant Colin Bixby. I shook my head. “No.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “You have a new boyfriend?”
I made a face at him.
“A new girlfriend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me why you’re here.”
The smile disappeared. “I was worried about you, like I said. I don’t like the idea of pictures of you showing up on that blog, that someone’s saying you’re to blame for that girl’s death.”
I studied his face, looking for any sign of a joke, that he was teasing me. But he really seemed sincere. Stranger things have happened, I’m sure, but I couldn’t think of any right at the moment. “Tim’s on top of it,” I said. “In fact, I don’t even need to go out anymore—that’s what I have to tell Harry.”
“Harry?”
“Harry Desmond.”
Jeff’s expression was incredulous. “Harry Desmond? That’s who your date is?”
“What of it? You know him?”
He barked out a laugh. “You surprise me, Kavanaugh.”
I had no clue what he was talking about.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me Harry’s been hanging around here these days?”
I made a face. “He’s been here almost every day for the last month or so.”
“I wondered where he went.”
It began to dawn on me what Jeff was talking about. “He hung around Murder Ink, too?” I asked.
“He didn’t just hang around, Kavanaugh. He worked for me.”
Now this was something I hadn’t expected. “Worked for you? How?”
Jeff cocked his head to the side, studying me for a second. “How would you think? I own a tattoo shop. He worked for me. Do you think maybe he was one of my artists?” It came out way too sarcastically, but I didn’t call him on it. I was too shocked.
“He’s a tattooist? He told us he got laid off.”
“Well, that’s not exactly accurate. I fired his ass.” Jeff’s face grew dark, and I wondered what it was Harry had done. But I didn’t have to wonder too long. “He botched a tattoo. Pretty bad.”
My chest constricted.
“He hasn’t asked you for a job?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head.
“He probably knows you’d need some background on him, and I’d tell you what he did.”
“He told
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