Made to Be Broken by Kelley Armstrong Page B

grabbed the first table they reached, leaving the other end empty. Jack chose the farthest table, next to a window, earning a sour look from the servers, who'd probably hoped to keep the mess contained to one side.
    Getting our coffees and placing our orders consumed a few minutes. A few more disappeared as I scrubbed up in the bathroom. But then, after I returned, the silence became too obvious to ignore. Jack folded a paper napkin and creased it with his thumbnail, intent on that task until, finally, even he could bear it no longer.
    "Been meaning to call," he said.
    Coffee churned in my stomach. My own fault for not being my usual chatty self, making him think the emptiness meant I was waiting for those obligatory words. Empty words. Like when a friend you haven't seen in years calls, and the lie comes naturally: I was going to call you.
    "You've been busy," I said.
    "Yeah."
    He sipped his coffee long enough to drain half of it.
    "Money," he said. "You okay?"
    In other words, did I need any jewels fenced? On Jack's advice, the Tomassinis paid me in uncut jewels, which were easier than cash to transfer over the border, easier to store, and safer to liquidate, with Jack as middleman, putting an extra layer between me and the cash. He was supposed to keep a cut for himself, and I presumed he did, though I had no way of knowing.
    Jack fenced only what I needed. As wonderful as it would be to pay off the mortgage and fully renovate the lodge, it would be a little hard to explain to Revenue Canada since the business barely broke even. It already took some creativity to inject just enough extra cash to keep the lodge in good repair.
    "I'm fine," I said.
    "Sure?"
    I nodded. "I got some money this week. Quinn cut me in on a job in Toronto and he had cash, so it seemed safe enough to take that."
    Jack lowered his mug to the table. "You're working with Quinn?"
    "Just that one job."
    The lines around his mouth deepened.
    "You know we kept in contact," I said.
    "Know you're seeing him. Not working with him."
    "Actually, it's the other way around. Last week was the first time I'd seen him since Wilkes. But you knew we were in contact, and you didn't have a problem with that..."
    "Social contact? None of my business. Working with him?" He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Shoulda run it by me."
    And how was I supposed to do that? I didn't say the words. They'd only sound like petulance, and he could remind me that he had provided a way for me to initiate contact, if I needed him.
    "This job. Tell me about it."
    "It went fine."
    His gaze met mine, holding it. "Details. Later."
    I could have balked at the suggestion that I needed Jack to vet my jobs, even in retrospect, but that would be like taking offense if a ski buddy wanted to double-check my equipment before a killer hill. When your life is at stake, it's no time for pride.
    Jack preferred for me to stick to my semiannual Tomassini hits. When it came to contract killing, that was like skiing on the bunny hill. I could take offense at the implication, but I was new and a part-timer with an outside life. A mistake could mean the end of the life I'd rebuilt so carefully
    We relapsed into silence until breakfast arrived. Jack had ordered the "Lumberjack Grand Slam": three pancakes, ham, bacon, sausage links and two eggs, hash browns, and toast. As he attacked it, I wondered how long it'd been since he'd ventured from the motel for a meal. I remembered the overflowing ashtrays.
    "I know this isn't the place to discuss it," I said, "but just a heads-up – we're going to need to talk about what kind of trouble you're in. If you're staying at the lodge – "
    He swallowed a mouthful of egg. "Trouble?"
    "The reason you need a place to stay."
    "Ah, fuck." He lowered his fork. "What'd Evelyn say?"
    "Just that you need someone to watch your back. Something to do with the job you broke your ankle on. Or, at least, that's what she seemed to be – "
    " – suggesting." He chomped down on a slice of