Whirlwind by Robert Liparulo Page A

wife?” Dad said.

    Xander thought Taksidian’s smooth demeanor cracked a little. He wasn’t sure what made him think so: a twitch of his mouth or a blink that wasn’t calculated and timed. Taksidian said, “I thought that was a foregone conclusion.”

    It was Dad’s turn to lean forward. He said, “ Nothing about that house is conclusive.”

    Taksidian glared at him. The ticking stopped.

    The waitress returned. As she lowered the plate with Taksidian’s pie, he pushed it away and said, “To go, sweetie.”

    She pulled it back as though he had slapped her hand. She set down a cup, saucer, and coffee decanter, and stormed off, her shoes loudly spanking the floor.

    Taksidian broke eye contact with Dad to glance absently around the room. “Well,” he said. “You think about it. In the meantime, let me extend a hand of good faith.” He gripped Xander with his freaky, intense stare. “The two of you destroyed my house, young man.”

    “You attacked me!” Xander snapped.

    The man’s gaze flicked to Dad, back to Xander. “You misunderstood my intentions. Regardless . . .” Tick-tick-tick . . .

    Again with the ticking. It was driving Xander nuts.

    Taksidian continued: “You also demolished a vehicle, a car I believe does not belong to you. It’s owned by a Dan Rainey, correct?”

    Xander looked at Dad. The car, the house . . . it was all a mess that would bring in the cops. How were they going to explain it without their whole bag of secrets spilling open?

    Was this just the trouble the police were looking for to arrest Dad—not on some trumped-up charges paid for by Taksidian, but for real and for good this time? Then Child Services would step in and take him, Dae, and Toria away, leaving the house for Taksidian to do with as he wanted.

    Dad must have been thinking the same things. He was trying to play it cool, but Xander knew his father. The concern was in his eyes, in a few beads of sweat that had broken out at his hairline.

    When Taksidian spoke, his voice was softer, affecting a graciousness Xander knew the man was incapable of feeling.

    “To demonstrate my sincerity about wanting to resolve our differences,” he said, “I’m willing to overlook this afternoon’s incident. What’s a little bricks and mortar among—”

    He stopped. Xander knew he had been about to say, among friends , but realized that using that word would have sent Xander over the edge.

    Instead, Taksidian moved on: “I’ll even make everything right with Mr. Rainey. He doesn’t have to know what happened to the car he lent you, only that he got a new one out of the deal.”

    “Why would you do that?” Dad asked.

    The waitress dropped a bag on the table and moved off.

    “Let’s just say,” Taksidian said, “that I’m not the bad guy you’ve made me out to be.”

    Yeah, right , Xander thought. He made fists under the table. His father wrapped his hand around one of them, gave it a squeeze. Xander said, “You think buying Dan a car makes up for taking my mother, for . . . for . . .” He was so furious, he couldn’t finish.

    “Not at all,” Taksidian said. “But it is a gesture. While you consider my proposal.” He slid out of the booth, adjusted his overcoat, and picked up the bag. “But don’t think about it too long. There are already . . . activities set in motion that could spoil our negotiations. It will take some doing to stop these events, and I’ll need to start right away.”

    “What activities?” Dad said sharply. He had abandoned his attempt to remain cool.

    This was Taksidian’s first threat since they’d started talking, and it didn’t sit well with him. Xander thought if his son weren’t in his way, Dad would have sprung up and grabbed the man.

    Taksidian shrugged. “Same ol’ stuff,” he said. “You know.”

    Through gritted teeth, Dad said, “If you come near my family or my house again . . .”

    Taksidian raised his brows as if to say, What? What can you