An Extra Pump of Sugar

Chapter 24

We pulled up to Jay's apartment in Theo's fancy scarlet Jaguar—a cherry tomato on an otherwise drab, colorless part of town. The car ran beautifully, just as his father promised, and I'd never seen Theo so happy behind the wheel. He looked like a child who finally grew tall enough to ride the big-kid rollercoaster, buzzing with excitement and handling the interior parts with joyful reverence.

He shut off the ignition and passed me a wary glance. "So...Vegas?"

I held up a hand. "I know. But I asked Jay where he wanted to go, and he said he hadn't been to the Strip since college. I told him we could go somewhere peaceful for a few days, maybe rent a cabin in the Sierras and fish a little, or drive down to Zion for a nice view. But the man wants to party and gamble away all his money!"

Theo's laugh soothed my nerves like a strong cup of tea. "Well then, Sin City it is."

A few minutes later, Jay came hobbling out the front door with a rolling suitcase and his ice chest. He paused just short of the car, and his bone-white smile made my heart twirl; I hadn't seen him that happy in weeks, and we hadn't even left town yet. "Holy shit, Roe. You didn't tell me we were cruising to Vegas in a Jag!"

"I wanted to surprise you." I threw his belongings into the backseat and crawled in after them. "You got everything you need, old man?"

He patted his jacket pockets. "Wallet, swim trunks, clothes, and opiates."

I traded grins with Theo and popped the passenger seat back up for Jay to sit. "Splendid."

Beaming, Jay slid into the car and reached over to squeeze Theo's shoulder—about as informal of a greeting as it gets. "You must be my drug dealer, then? The famous Mr. Theo?"

"Sure am. Got you some more flower, too."

Jay threw me a pleased look. "Impressive kushman you got here."

As we made our way through Reno, the two men jabbered on about the year the car was made, its hardware, its internal organs, and nothing I really cared to digest, to be honest. Theo mentioned that it was his mom's most beloved machine, and Jay shared his own passion for the model and the tragic loss of his own British ride, Liz. On and on they went, and any worries I'd cultivated about the two getting along had vanished before we even merged onto the freeway.

My brow creased when Theo turned for the eastbound on-ramp, and I leaned forward over the console. "Did you mean to take 80?"

He nodded. "Thought we'd take 50 and then drop down to Tonopah. It's a more scenic drive."

"Scenic?" I'd never heard anyone describe our arid, barren desert that way. Most city dwellers who had the misfortune of traversing the state could only describe long, straight roads and various splotches of brown.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and the vibrant spring greens in his eyes made me forget what we were talking about for a second. "It's gorgeous out here in late March. Plus...there's something I want to show you."

Cryptic, but intriguing enough to appease me. For now.

I distributed the iced coffees and breakfast sandwiches I'd bought earlier that morning—careful with my cup, lest Theo rip my head off for leaving a coffee stain behind. We were headed straight for the Middle of Nowhere, Nevada, after all: the most ideal place to bury a body. 

Quiet chewing filled the vehicle, and Jay was only three bites into his meal when he dropped an appalling, "So...you two having sex or what?"

I choked on a bacon strip and fumbled for my coffee to help clear the blockage. "Jay."