Alice looked for the restaurant on the left, on the riverbank. They passed old-time municipal piers, then a huge ship with a peeling black hull and three red smokestacks, like a busted Titanic. She spotted Roux dead ahead and scanned the surrounding area. Next to it was some kind of abandoned distribution center, with a rubble-strewn parking lot, empty except for a few tractor trailers without the truck cabs. It was a dark, lonely stretch, with ancient RESTRICTED AREA signs hanging on saggy concertina wire.

Alice felt satisfied. There would be plenty of places to leave a body, so that it wouldn’t be discovered until morning.

“How’d I do?” Judy asked, when the lecture was over.

“Perfect.” Alice smiled. “Just perfect.”

Chapter Eighty-two

Mary hurried inside her parents’ house, left Grady in their living room, and made a beeline for the kitchen, which looked different from ever before. There was no food on the table, and nothing bubbled on the stovetop. Tony Bennett was silent, and there wasn’t even the sound of coffee percolating. The room was empty except for her mother, who sat slumped in her chair, her hand in her chin, her body a forlorn pile of flesh and spandex.

“Maria,” she said, her voice choked and quivery, and Mary rushed over, sat beside her, and hugged her tight, breathing in her faded perfume.

“It’s gonna be all right, Ma.”

“No, no.” Her mother looked over, her gaze red-rimmed behind her bifocals and her rookie mascara making dark quarter-moons under her eyes. “Fiorella come, and everyting go bad.”

“Ma, it can’t be. You and Pop love each other.”

“No, Maria. He no love me no more.” Emotion mottled her papery skin, and red tinged the tip of her nose. “He cheat!”

“How, Ma? What happened?”

“Your father, he kiss her, inna restaurant!” Her mother’s eyes brimmed with tears, but Mary couldn’t believe it was true.

“That’s impossible, Ma.”

“No, e vero.”

“How do you know?”

“Johnny, he works inna museum, he’s a grandson from the TV man down a block.” Her mother pressed a balled-up Kleenex to her nose. “Johnny, he call the TV man onna phone, and the TV man tell Camarr Millie, and she tell Camarr Franny, and she call me.”

Mary felt mortified for her. “What restaurant? What museum?”

“Non lo so, I dunno. He take Fiorella, inna city. Art museum. She want to go. Anywhere she want, he take her, alla time.”

“Kissed her?” Mary still couldn’t believe it. “It’s just a rumor, gossip. Pop would never kiss another woman, never.”

“No, no.” Her mother squeezed her hands together, squashing the Kleenex, and Mary hugged her closer.

“Ma, I’m sure there’s an explanation. Pop loves you. You have the best marriage ever. Everybody knows that.”

“No more, no more. Ever since operaysh…” Her mother’s voice trailed off, and Mary knew what she meant. Her “operaysh” was her operation. Her hysterectomy.

“Where is he?”

“Non lo so. He’s a suppose to come home for dinn’. He no come, he no call.”

Suddenly there was a commotion in the living room, and Mary heard the screen door slam closed, then her father talking to Grady.

She and her mother looked toward the living room.

Chapter Eighty-three

Bennie found a parking space down the street from Roux, having followed Alice and Carrier here from the office. Their cab was still idling, and the valet waited at its back door to meet them with a golf umbrella. They were evidently going to dinner together, and she would wait until they had finished and Alice was alone. The red Toyota sat behind a boxy white truck, so it couldn’t be seen from the restaurant.

She cut the ignition, freezing the wipers in place. The engine shuddered, and the defrost wheezed into silence. Raindrops ran in rivulets down the windshield, but if she shifted to the left, she had a view of Roux’s entrance, its blue awning flapping in the storm.

She looked around. She’d never eaten at Roux because she didn’t like the neighborhood, which was too industrial, even cheesy. A strip club sat across the street, flashing a sign that read BACHELOR, BACHELORETTE, AND DIVORCE PARTIES! Busted cyclone fencing failed to cordon off empty lots, and the municipal piers were no longer in use, had gone to seed.

She thought ahead. It wouldn’t be long until dinner was over, and it would be darker by then. The storm showed no sign of letting up. There wouldn’t be anybody out on the sidewalk, or anywhere nearby, and in between the Toyota and the restaurant was the back of a distribution center, with a loading dock shaped like a hub. It looked abandoned, too, with only a few tractor trailers rusting in place. There were no streetlights at all.

She listened to the thrumming of the rain and rubbed her eyes. She was so calm, she knew it was the drug. It didn’t feel as if she were going to kill Alice. It felt as if she were performing a series of tasks that would result in Alice’s death. The deed would ruin her, but she wasn’t thinking about that now. She couldn’t go back to her old life, anyway. A snake couldn’t wriggle back into its skin. A cicada couldn’t crawl back into its husk.

She wasn’t Bennie Rosato anymore. She’d passed the point of no return.

She pulled out the gun.

And set it on her lap, waiting.

Chapter Eighty-four

Alice climbed out of the cab, hoisted the messenger bag on her shoulder, and stepped onto the slick asphalt, ducking under the umbrella offered by the valet. Rain thundered on its nylon and sprayed underneath. She turned to Judy, as if she’d forgotten something. “Damn, I left my cell phone at the office, and I need to call Grady.”

“You can borrow mine.” Judy stepped under the umbrella, then reached in her bag, produced her iPhone, and handed it over. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Alice pressed in her office number as the valet escorted them to the restaurant, but right before they reached the curb, she let the iPhone drop into the filthy water flowing in the gutter. “Oh no!”

“My phone!” Judy scrambled to pick up her phone, but it came up dripping wet, its end cracked and screen gone black.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll get you a new one.” Alice let the valet usher them inside Roux, then left Judy behind to struggle with her phone, in vain. The restaurant had a French country vibe, and candles glowed against golden walls. The place was half empty, either from the weather or the vacation week, and Alice found the maitre d’ while Judy joined her.

“It’s dead,” she said, with a frown.

Bad choice of words.

They were seated at a table not far from the door, and half an hour later, Alice was craning her neck, pretending to check the entrance for the Irish biotech client. Then she eased back into her chair, shaking her head. “Not here yet,” she said. “The weather must have held them up.”

“Probably.” Judy checked her watch. “It’s been a half an hour.”

“That’s annoying, and we rushed down here for nothing. Make a note, and we’ll charge them.”

Judy frowned. “You’re sure it was tonight, right?”

“Positive. They called today.”

“Too bad we don’t have a cell.”

“We’re snakebit.” Alice picked up the menu. “I’m hungry. Are you?”

“Yes, but should we call them? I’m sure there’s a pay phone, or we can use the restaurant’s phone.”

“I don’t have the number, and I wouldn’t want to do that, anyway. Why make them feel bad about being late?”

“What about calling the office to see if they called?”

“Nobody’s there to answer. Marshall’s gone by now. If they want to reach us, they’re smart enough to call the restaurant.” Alice opened the menu. “Let’s get a bunch of appetizers while we wait.”