“Huh,” she said involuntarily.

Dan stared at her hand and then back at her face. He looked like he’d just been shot through with a jolt of electricity.

“Did you…?” he began.

“Guess I was in a rush this morning,” she said quickly.

“Oh.” He nodded slowly, not even trying to hide his disappointment. He was standing close enough that she felt the heat of his skin, but he didn’t move away. She noticed that her knees were trembling. She sighed and went to sit in one of the orange plastic chairs next to the soda machine. He followed and sat down beside her.

“I’m sorry. Am I out of line?” he asked.

“No, whatever, we’re just joking around. But let’s talk about work, okay?”

“Okay.”

They both sipped their sodas for a moment.

“Where do you think Randall went?” she asked after a pause.

“Good question. He was supposed to be here, wasn’t he? I’ll beep him.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed but got no immediate response. “Sometimes it takes him a while to answer a page.”

“I can’t believe I got us kicked out of there,” she said, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t your fault. I know that guy from way back, and he’s a total prick. Plus, it sounds like Nell Benson told him to keep us away.”

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me. You know what Amanda told me before Flanagan showed up?”

“What?”

“She thinks her mother had her father killed.”

“What, for cheating on her?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Melanie said. Not like she hadn’t thought about it herself with Steve.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up with gangbangers whacking Benson. How many socialites you know could contract a hit with the Blades?”

“True. Good point.”

“Hey, speaking of Benson cheating, you ever watch the video you pinched from that girl’s house?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that without you.”

“You got the wrong guy, sweetheart. It’s Randall who likes dirty movies. The brothers trained me good. They used to smack the shit out of us with a ruler if they caught us looking out the windows at girls.”

“Oh, so Catholic school turned you off sex?”

“No, not at all. Sex is the greatest thing in life. But only when there’s true love.”

He looked at her intently, and this time she looked back, trying to figure out if he was for real. She was half falling for him and half convinced he was manipulating her.

“You’re full of shit,” she said finally.

“Am not. I’m serious.”

“You expect me to believe you never slept with a woman you weren’t in love with?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I mean, I’m human. But if I did, I felt really bad about it.”

“Can we get back to talking about work, please? I can’t even remember where we were, the way you’re distracting me.”

“You were saying Amanda says Mrs. Benson had her husband whacked.”

“Right. I’m thinking we should take a closer look at our victim,” she said.

“Yeah, in all our spare time. Look, so the guy wasn’t a saint. It’s an angle, but your other idea was better. Setting up on her room, I mean.”

“We’re still doing that. Flanagan can kick us out of a private room, but he can’t keep us out of the public hallways.”

“Okay, so I’ll go scout a nice observation post. Someplace I can see Amanda’s door without being seen.”

“And I’ll go back to my office and get a subpoena so Flanagan has to let us talk to her.”

“Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe our man Slice makes an appearance while you’re gone, and I wrap the whole thing up before you even make it back here.”

“That would be nice. Although I’d hate to miss the fireworks.”

28

RANDALL WALKER CROSSED THE STREET, HEADING for the run-down bar in the middle of the next block. Its grimy windows, covered with iron bars, gave it a blank, vacant look in the blinding afternoon light.

As he stepped up onto the curb, he hesitated. He’d been walking fast, almost as though, if he moved quick enough, he wouldn’t have time to think about what he was doing. But he should think. It wasn’t too late yet. He could still jump off the runaway train. Not go into the bar. Just walk on by, like he was heading somewhere else, circle around back to his car and go on with his day. Just pretend things were okay, that this mess didn’t apply to him.

His feet slowed to a stop before he even realized he was standing still. He got lost for a minute, remembering what it was like before he felt so twisted up in his gut. One mistake years ago, and it fucked up his whole life. But no way to go back and change things now. Nope, that was the problem with time-only moved in one direction.

He recollected himself and glanced around nervously, not wanting to be seen yet by the person he was here to meet. He was still thinking he might not go in. The alley between the bar and the next building was strewn with broken glass. He ducked into it for a minute. It reeked from bags of garbage piled high, fermenting in the hot sun. At the sound of his footsteps, a plump gray rat leaped out of the pile, bounded across the narrow alley, and disappeared. What the bejesus was he doing here? Randall asked himself.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed, to remind himself.

“Hello?” his wife answered.

“Calling to check on you, baby.”

“I’m doing fine. Don’t you be worrying about me.” There was a leaden, groggy quality to her voice that told him she’d taken more than her prescribed dose of antidepressants today.

“It’s nice out,” he said. “You ought to get out the house.”

“Naw, they got an ozone alert on. I’m staying in the bedroom with the air-conditioning going.”

“Go downstairs and visit with Della, then.”

“It’s too hot in her apartment. Besides, I’m tired of listening to her talk.”

“No good sitting alone in the house, Betty.”

“I’m doing just fine here, Randall. You go about your business now.”

“At least get up out of bed. Cook me something good for dinner.”

“Aw, come on. You don’t even know whether you coming home for dinner tonight.”

He laughed hollowly. “You too smart for me, girl.”

“You got that right,” she said, laughing. Her laugh sounded natural, raised his spirits a little. Only a little, though. She seemed worse to him as time went on, rather than better.

“Okay, I’ma check on you later, and you better be up out that bed, you hear?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said lethargically, and hung up.

RANDALL HUNCHED HIS SHOULDERS AS HE yanked open the door of the bar, so dark inside after the blazing sidewalk. The air-conditioning in the place was on the fritz, the stench of urine and beer nearly overpowering in the sultry interior. He kept his head down, not wanting to look around, not wanting to see where he was going and what he was about to do. Looking neither to the right nor to the left, he made a beeline for the booth in the back where his associate waited.

“You’re late,” the associate said, dragging on the last remnant of a cigarette and stubbing it out.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly a convenient time for me.”

“Where’s your partner?”

“Skip the small talk, all right? Let’s get it over with.”

The associate reached under the table to get something. Randall stiffened, his hand flying to the gun at his waistband. But the associate simply pulled out a thick white envelope and tossed it on the table. It landed in front of Randall with a resounding thwack.

“What the fuck is that?” Randall asked, his voice dangerous.

“What the fuck does it look like?”

“You’re very much mistaken. I’m doing this because you’re forcing me, not for money. I’m not like you. Don’t think I am.”

The associate took back the envelope, frowning.

“This ‘honorable man’ routine is getting stale, Randall. It’s about money for you, just like it is for everybody else.”