Dak spoke up. “You know, our generation of the family has really been through the shit. And I’m willing to go to bat for you, Coney.”
“I thought we’d gotten rid of the bad council,” said Gin, referring to a coup that had forced our grandparents into early retirement.
“Why would Mom behave just like her mother?” Dak said.
My mum was on the council too. Which meant that she knew about this assignment and hadn’t told me. Another wave of shock engulfed me. How could this have happened? And what in the hell were we going to do about it?
Chapter Thirty
Dubanich: “Do you know anything about airplane design?”
Nate: “Yeah, I could give it a shot. You know, you get me a pencil and one of those little rulers.”
– LEVERAGE
Dak, Gin and I wasted no time. We dropped the kids off with Diego and Leonie and locked Dekker in Gin’s basement. Afterward we picked up our other cousins Liv and Paris and strategically retreated to my latest Wal-Mart parking lot home. We needed to talk through this newest family development. But in true Bombay form, none of us felt safe discussing it where we might be overheard.
“I’m so sick of this family,” Liv said as she held Sartre in her arms.
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Paris. It was a good question. Something had to be done. The five of us agreed we didn’t want to blindly answer to the council anymore.
“Thank God you got this assignment.” Gin flipped through the file. “I would’ve taken him out without talking to him.”
Dak nodded. “All my files have had a laundry list of bad deeds that would make Saddam Hussein blush.”
“So why now?” Paris asked. We all turned to stare at him. “Why didn’t we fight this a long time ago?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know if you guys should be involved. This is my problem.”
“It’s time. I think I speak for all of us when I say we want retirement,” Liv said.
“I’m tired of the fact that it’s taken for granted that you can’t trust anyone in the Bombay family,” Dak replied. He looked tired. Shock would do that to you.
“I’ve always trusted you guys,” Gin said slowly.
“I don’t want to be responsible for killing off an entire generation of Bombays,” I said. “I’ll do it alone.”
Paris jumped to his feet and started pacing-no easy feat considering there were five people crowded into my RV. “Well, we have to do something. I’m tired of it too.”
Liv reached out and patted her brother on the arm. There was something about that gesture that soothed me. And I realized that Gin was right: I’d always trusted my cousins-the Bombays of my generation. This was a new thing in the family. As far as I knew, that kind of camaraderie had always been discouraged before.
“I’m not going to kill Dekker,” I declared. “In fact, I’m not going to kill anyone anymore.”
My cousins turned to stare at me. Was the solution really this simple?
“Okay…” Paris spoke up. He was always the most practical and cautious of us. “But how are we going to do that without getting us all killed?”
“Good question,” I said. “We will have to work together.” That sounded good. How would we do it?
“Coney?” Gin asked. “What made you question this particular hit?”
Dak looked at her in that brotherly way that implied she was nuts. “I’d like to think that any one of us would have eventually done that.”
She shook her head. “Not necessarily. I mean, with all the training that’s been forced on us throughout our lives, it’s been ingrained in us not to question anything.”
We all thought about this for a moment. No one wanted to admit it, but she had a point.
“Something about this hit stood out,” Gin persisted in a way that made me itch metaphorically. “What was it?”
I knew the answer. I wished I didn’t, but I did. Veronica made me question the hit. And while I would have liked to believe I was smart enough to think critically regarding assignments, the truth was, we were trained to avoid dealing with the truth when it was inconvenient. Bombays were so brainwashed we might let something like this go by once-hell, maybe even twice-before asking about it.
“I’ve gotten involved with someone who made me realize you can’t judge someone by their file,” I said slowly, unsure how much I should reveal.
My cousins prompted me silently with their stares. There was no easy way out of this. So I spilled my guts. I told them everything. About how this woman made me question everything around me. And how Dekker had become my father confessor. And most of all, how I was just sick and tired of the violence and death that surrounded us.
I went into more detail about Ronnie. There was something very intimate about relating the story of my relationship to my cousins. I guess I’d gone it alone so long I didn’t think I’d ever need someone to talk to. Gin, Dak, Liv and Paris listened patiently as I started with meeting Veronica in Nebraska to our angst-filled meeting when I dropped off the envelope containing Senator Anderson’s sins. I guess I gave them a welcome distraction from our immediate problem. Once I finished, Gin pulled out her cell phone and ordered pizza while Dak ran across the parking lot to score a case of beer.
“Wow,” Liv said softly. The look in her eyes told me she was impressed.
“And you didn’t want to kill him?” Dak asked. Gin punched him in the arm. “Not even a little bit?”
I laughed and took a swig of beer. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I did a little bit.”
Paris stared into space, chewing thoughtfully. “There were rumors of murder after Anderson ’s death.” He shrugged. “I knew he was a prick so I never thought anything about it.”
“Well, you can’t serve Veronica up to the council,” Dak said. “That’s a bit of a deal breaker.”
Gin punched him again. “And what about this Drew thing? Why didn’t you give Veronica a chance to explain? Maybe once she found you, she didn’t want him anymore.”
Liv nodded. “You should have told her how you felt, Coney. Maybe that would’ve changed things.”
Paris leaped to my defense. Good man. “She totally played him! This Ronnie never told Coney she was already in a relationship.”
“Love is a little more complicated than that, little brother,” Liv said. “You should never assume anything.”
Gin nodded. “Coney can’t do this by himself. And we can’t let things keep going as they are.”
“But you’re retired!” Dak cried out again. “This doesn’t even affect you!”
Gin shook her head. “As far as you guys are concerned, it does affect me.”
“Okay,” Liv said. “So let’s do it.”
Chapter Thirty-one
John Smith (at anniversary dinner in fine restaurant): So what do we do, Jane? Shoot it out here? Hope for the best?
Jane Smith: Well, that would be bad because they would probably ask me to leave once you are dead.
– MR. & MRS. SMITH
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said to Sartre as I drove the remaining sixty miles to Iowa City. The guinea pig looked up at me from the passenger seat as if to say she didn’t think she should be riding without a seat belt.
My cousins and I had agreed on this course of action the night before, but we’d had a lot of beer and may not have been thinking clearly. What we were about to do flew in the face of the Bombay family creed. We were confident that Missi would be on board with it, but there were five other cousins we hadn’t consulted. Were we making a mistake?
Sartre wheeked, implying that I was driving too fast. Maybe I should have put her back in her cage.
The thought of seeing Ronnie again twisted my intestines in a way I did not find very comfortable. Seeing Drew again was a necessary evil. Seeing them together would probably burn out my eyes. But if I left them here and went off to confront the council, they might just get picked up anyway. The safest place for Ronnie was with me. Unfortunately, the council could use Drew to get to her. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, both had to come with me.