Page 40 of To Kill a Badger (The Honey Badgers Chronicles #6)

As someone who’d grown up with siblings, Nelle knew better than to intervene between sisters.

But no one else told Max she had nothing to worry about either, because it was nice to see Stevie messing with her head for once.

It was usually the other way around since the time Nelle had met Max all those years ago.

It was Stevie’s due to torment the master of torment.

“Max—” Charlie began.

“Seriously! Who knows what kind of freak she’ll have!”

“Hey!” Charlie barked, pointing a finger at Max. “Do not disparage Stevie’s panda-honey badger-tiger baby! You’ll be the aunt to that thing one day, and you better love it! No matter what unholy beast Stevie births!”

Nelle turned her head to hide her smile, brushing her face against Keane’s bulging bicep. He smelled nice, and he didn’t seem to mind, so she sort of stayed that way for a bit.

“When that thing turns nasty,” Max ominously warned, “don’t come crying to me!”

* * *

Nelle had her head buried against Keane’s arm, and he had no idea why.

Then Max was standing in front of him, pointing her finger up near his face—she’d have to go on her tiptoes and stretch her arm completely out to reach his face—and demanding to know, “Are you okay with Stevie having a demon baby?”

He knew that saying “of course not” would be what would soothe her in this moment. Instead, he said, “Yes, I’m completely fine with it. I think it would be great.”

Keane didn’t make that statement with any sort of real conviction—because, again, he hadn’t been listening and had no idea why Stevie would be having a demon baby—but it was enough to send Max stomping off while swearing. So much swearing.

He could have asked after she’d left what was going on, but that seemed like too much trouble. Also, he didn’t care. Besides, his niece ran in and stopped long enough to hug him around the leg before heading into the dining room for some breakfast.

Behind Dani came Rutowski.

“I love that kid,” she announced to the room. “She is so great with my dogs!”

Keane rolled his eyes. He wasn’t okay with his niece’s sudden love of dogs. She was a cat. She should hate dogs on principle.

“You Malones did a great job with that kid.” Rutowski smiled at Keane. “You should be proud.”

“I’m not.”

“I’ve had dogs since I was a little girl,” Rutowski continued, ignoring him. “They make you more empathetic, more loving. Teach you about the cycle of life, love, and death in the best way possible.”

“My niece is an apex predator. When she’s an adult, she will be death. And dogs should be nothing more than whimpering toothpicks she uses to get the bits of bison out of her teeth.”

“Wow,” Rutowski said, eyes wide. “You don’t say much but, like your dad, when you do speak . . . it’s mighty powerful. And weird.”

Keane froze at the She-badger’s words. Nelle squeezed his hand as if she sensed the sudden tension.

“You knew my father?” he softly asked.

* * *

In that moment, with that simple phrase, “like your father,” everything about Keane changed.

She was worried she’d have to hold him up.

That She-badger had no idea how impactful it would be that she had known Keane’s father.

But Nelle understood. Not simply because of the love she had for her own father and understanding the devastation it would have caused if she’d lost him. Especially at such a young age.

But also because she knew Max and her sisters. The three had lost Charlie’s mom when they were so very young and it had affected absolutely everything they had done since then. How could it not?

Making it even worse for Keane, though, was that—from what she’d overheard from his brothers—no one wanted to talk about his dad. Either because they couldn’t for reasons involving their father’s work at the time, or because talking about it hurt too much. Like for their mother.

So, to meet someone willing to talk about his dad with such ease . . .

Nelle, desperately wanting to help, leaned in and held on to Keane’s hand.

Then she, in that moment, did nothing more than hope.

She hoped this crazy female didn’t say anything that would make this entire situation awful.

“Of course I knew your father,” the She-badger replied with a warm smile. “He threw me off a building once.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

When Nelle glared hard at her, Rutowski quickly added, “It was to save my life, but it was traumatic in the moment.” She picked up a half-eaten muffin from off a plate on the kitchen table and said, “You look so much like him. It kind of weirded me out when I first saw you. I thought I was having one of my flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks?” Keane asked.

“Since I mixed Gaboon viper venom with this amazing Pakistani weed . . . I occasionally get flashbacks. Or maybe they’re hallucinations. Or waking nightmares. I’m not really sure. It was the nineties, so it was a wild time.”

“Are you CIA like Keane’s dad?” Charlie asked.

Rutowski laughed until she realized no one was laughing with her.

“Oh. You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Well . . . I think one or two may have suggested me and my girls for a job with the CIA, but apparently they were told that was an”—she made air quotes with her forefingers—“ ‘insane suggestion,’ and they should rethink their ‘life choices’ if they really think that’s a good idea.

And ‘how could you even suggest such a thing?’ It got pretty rude. So we just stayed independent—”

“Pains in the ass?” Charlie suggested.

“I was going to say contractors, but it really depends on who you talk to.”

* * *

“Anyway,” Rutowski continued.

Anyway? Did this female just dismiss his father with an anyway ?

The cat Keane could never forget? Did not want to forget.

But sometimes whose face he could barely remember without the help of the few pictures they had around the house.

Everyone said Keane looked just like him, but he didn’t know.

He did know he looked more Mongolian than Irish, and his father was nothing but Irish.

But honestly, he didn’t want to think about it too much.

Because he couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must be for his mom to see her husband’s face every day when she looked at her eldest son.

Someone squeezed his bicep, and he realized it was Nelle.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him, since she was now talking directly to Rutowski.

But somehow, she knew. She knew he was about to spiral into a quagmire of depression from which he might have a little trouble digging himself out of.

He tried not to get into that quagmire too often.

Tried to hide it from the rest of the family.

They all had enough to worry about. It wasn’t easy, though.

To not sit around, being depressed. Football, though, helped with that.

All the work he had to do to keep the team going.

That’s why he loved the game so much. It never let him wallow in his own misery for long.

Not when three grizzlies were trying to take out his quarterback and he had to stop them with nothing but his body and his rage.

“I have a contact,” Nelle was telling Rutowski. “She might have some information. About where to find the de Medicis. We’re sure they’re in America now that they can’t go home.”

“Oh, they’re definitely here.”

Rutowski made that statement confidently as she ate a half-devoured muffin that Keane assumed Stevie had left behind. Who ate people’s half-eaten food? Not when there was fresh, uneaten muffins all over the damn kitchen.

And also, hold on a second. This woman knew something about the de Medicis, but she hadn’t told them immediately? Why? Was she playing with them? Withholding information for her own benefit? A move, he’d recently learned, was kind of typical of the manipulative honey badger.

Or was she just kind of a dingbat because she used to smoke weed combined with snake venom?

“You know where they are?” Nelle asked.

“No. But I know they’re here. I meant to tell you guys that earlier, but I got distracted.” She wagged a finger at Keane. “That was his fault.”

“How was that my fault?”

“You were the one who let my dogs out in the middle of the night and didn’t track them to ensure their safety. I was distracted by that! My poor babies! Where were they?”

Keane looked down at the five dogs sitting behind her. Five powerful, well-trained protection dogs that could easily kill a man, and he was supposed to worry about them ?

“So, yeah,” she pushed. “Your fault.”

The badger grabbed another muffin—uneaten—took a big bite, and then said around a mouthful of food, “The de Medicis are here, but we don’t know where yet. But more importantly, I have an idea.”

“What idea?” Charlie asked.

“How we can get real information. Real help. That will allow us to shut down the de Medicis for good.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Let’s discuss over coffee and more of these muffins!”

Rutowski motioned to the coffee pot and pulled Stevie’s chair out, about to sit.

“Come on, Charlie, let’s sit down and— ack !”

Nelle moved so quickly that Keane didn’t realize what was happening until she’d grabbed the older woman by the throat and thrown her out of the room, those five dogs chasing after their owner.

Standing in front of Charlie, Nelle smiled in a way that was meant to be soothing but Keane only found disturbing. What the hell was going on?

“You know what, Charlie,” Nelle said in a gratingly chipper voice, “you have a ton of bears out there. Hungry bears. You know how they get when they’re hungry.

Why don’t you finish passing out all these lovely treats, and I’ll go talk to Ms. Rutowski.

Handle whatever idea she has. A stupid idea, I’m sure, but don’t want to insult her. ”

Since when?

“Would you mind, Nelle?” Charlie asked, appearing deeply relieved. “She seems like a lot .”

“She is a lot, and I don’t mind at all. Anything for you, you know that.”

“Thanks, Nelle. Just let me know if you need me involved in anything.”

“I absolutely will!”

Grabbing a cake box, Charlie exited out the back door. When Nelle faced him, again, the smile she’d had for Charlie was already gone, replaced by what Keane had now learned was her pissed-off expression.

“Fucking crones!” she snarled, storming out of the kitchen.

“I don’t think Charlie wants us calling them that.”