Chapter Thirty-Six

Rob

I'm supposed to meet Landon at a bar called Mercy's at eleven tonight. As I sit on the deck thinking about it, something doesn't feel right to me. Call it intuition, a sixth sense, or just plain old-fashioned paranoia, but something just feels off.

I throw the ball and watch Ella and Fitz go bounding after it. I take a sip of coffee and let my mind play out the scenarios in my head again. I know that something isn't adding up, but damned if I can figure out what it is.

“You will be taking your bodyguards with you, won't you?” Cordy asks.

She's sitting across the table from me, a look of utter concern painted upon her face. I told her everything and told her about the meeting tonight. But, in regard to her question, I shake my head.

“I can't,” I say. “It's the terms of the deal.”

“Oh, and I'm sure he's going to honor that deal, right?” Cordy asks. “Because he's such a stand up guy and all.”

“I have to do something, Cordy,” I say. “If I let this guy keep running around, he's not going to stop coming after Harper. And the last time I saw him, it was pretty clear that he's strung out on coke – or something worse. The guy is dangerous and he's a threat to Harper.”

“Then let the police handle it,” she says. “That's kind of their job.”

I shake my head. “No, I need to make sure Landon never comes back again,” I say. “I need to make him understand that he's not welcome in LA ever again.”

Cordelia eyes me over her coffee mug, the look of concern spreading across her face deepening.

“What are you going to do, Rob?”

“I'm going to meet with him,” I say. “Talk to him.”

“You're not going to kill him, are you?”

I laugh ruefully and shake my head. “What is it with you and Harper both thinking I'm going to kill him?

“Uh, hi,” Cordy says. “You do know your family history, right?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Of course I do,” I say. “But you know my personal history and how I feel about the family history, right?”

She nods. “Touché,” she says. “So, if you're not going to kill him, what are you going to do?”

“I'm not sure yet,” I admit. “I've still got a little bit of time left to figure it out.”

“Remember,” she says. “Not letting it end in bloodshed and death is the preferred method of dealing with him.”

“Noted,” I say.

“I still think you should call the cops,” she mutters.

“Also noted,” I say. “Trust me, if it gets too hot, I'll get out and call the cops at that point.”

“Do I have your word on that?”

I nod. “Absolutely,” I say. “You have my word.”

Cordy looks at me for a long moment before nodding her head as if she's finally satisfied. It's not the ideal situation, but nothing about this situation is ideal in any way, shape or form.

“So, tell me about Vegas,” she says, changing the topic quickly.

I smile and nod – and then tell her everything. I start at the top and go all the way through the end of the story – which happens to be the two of us sitting at the table and Harper still asleep upstairs.

“Oh, my God,” Cordy gasps.

“What?”

I look around, expecting to see her freaking out about some insect buzzing around the table. But there's nothing. And yet, Cordy continues to stare at me as if I've grown a second head.

“What is it?” I ask again.

She laughs and there's a note of disbelief in her voice. “You're in love with her.”

“I care for her,” I say. “I care for her deeply.”

“And I can see you already falling in love quickly,” she says. “In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you this free and light, Rob. I've never seen you genuinely happy – not until Harper showed up in your life. I knew she was going to be good for you. Knew she'd be able to get you to open up and learn how to be yourself.”

I smile and shake my head. “She's a really remarkable girl.”

“I can tell,” Cordy says. “And to be honest, I think she is too. And I'm pretty fond of her. I mean, look at you. I haven't seen you smile nearly as often in your life than I have whenever Harper is around. Hell, whenever Harper's name comes up in conversation, you get that goofy, lovesick grin on your dopey face.”

“I like her, Cordy,” I say. “I like her quite a bit.”

“Then don't disappoint her,” she says. “And don't get your ass thrown in jail for doing something stupid tonight.”

“Do something stupid? Me?”

“Yeah, you,” she says, a gentle smile touching her lips.

“I don't plan on it,” I say. “Believe me. I'm just planning on going there, making sure he understands that he's not welcome in Southern California anymore, and be done with it. Be done with him.”

“I'd feel better if you took your bodyguards, Rob.”

“My fear is that they'll just make things more tense. Make things escalate,” I say. “And I don't want that.”

“Maybe,” she says. “Please tell me that you're going to be careful.”

“C'mon, Cordy,” I say. “When have you ever known me to not be careful?”

“Good point.”

“Good morning, Cordelia.”

We both look up and see Harper crossing the deck. She sits down at the table and I pour her a cup of coffee. She takes it from me, giving me a thankful smile.

“So, how did you enjoy your first time in Vegas?” Cordy asks.

The grin on Harper's face is immediate. And she launches into her story, telling Cordelia everything – leaving nothing out. She even takes my phone from me and plays the video I shot of her performing at Club Nova. And when she finishes her story, Cordy sits back in her seat and whistles.

“Wow,” she says. “That sounds like an incredible couple of days. And your voice is unbelievable, Harper. Seriously. I'm totally blown away.”

“Thank you,” she says, the color flaring in her cheeks. She reaches across the table and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Rob is really amazing.”

Cordy nods. “That he is.”

“I think you two have a really good thing going here,” Cordy says. “I've honestly never seen Rob so happy. Not in all the years I've known him. And I have you to thank for that, Harper.”

She shrugs and gives me a smile. “And he makes me just as happy.”

We all sit back and enjoy our coffee and a companionable silence for a few minutes. And then Cordy, as if suddenly remembering something, sits bolt upright in her seat and pulls a newspaper out of her briefcase. She looks at me with the kind of grin I imagine the cat had after eating the canary.

“Okay, so while you crazy kids were enjoying the nightlife in Vegas, the world went on here in LA,” she says. “And a mutual friend of ours – one Maxwell Irving – found himself busted after the LAPD received an anonymous tip and moved on him. They busted him with three underage girls he'd been forcing to perform in his movies. Word on the inside is that he's going to roll on his higher-ups for a better deal.”

“Yeah, that's going to make him real popular in prison,” I remark. “But hey, let's celebrate a win. One scumbag off the streets.”

“Indeed. But I wouldn't be shocked if he ended up in a federal pen to serve out his sentence,” Cordy says. “I bet that's part of the deal so he can keep himself from getting shanked.”

I look over and see Harper looking at the photograph on the front page of the newspaper. It shows the cops leading him away in handcuffs. She looks angry, but she also looks pleased. And I know she's imagining seeing Landon on the front page of the paper in roughly, the same position as Max.

But, Landon is a nobody and the cops won't have anything on him anyway. We can't prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt that he conspired with Max. Can't say for certain that he's even dangerous – at least, not on his own. Unfortunately, the cops won't be able to do a damn thing about Landon Hall.

Which means I have to.