They ordered food, the waiter brought it, and Alice had lobster bisque while Judy tucked into a goat-cheese-and-beet salad. They made small talk, with Judy doing most of the talking. If the associate still harbored any suspicions, the wine seemed to smooth them over. They finished the appetizers, and Alice signaled for the check. “I gather they’re not coming,” she said, pretending to be miffed. “Let’s skip dinner and go. I’ve got work to do, at home.”

“Shouldn’t we wait longer?”

“No. Something must have gone wrong.”

“Do you want to ask the waiter if they called, again?”

“I will, but I’m sure he would have said something.” Alice reached for her wallet. “Grady will be happy I got home earlier than I thought.”

“Good.” Judy rose, taking her napkin from her lap. “I should use the bathroom.”

“Me, too.” Alice got up with her. She wasn’t about to let the girl out of her sight.

Not when she only had fifteen minutes to live.

Chapter Eighty-five

Mary looked up as her father appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, the shoulders of his windbreaker dappled with raindrops. She felt her heart break for her mother, because she could tell from his face that the rumor was true. His forehead creased with guilt, and his pained eyes focused completely on his wife.

“Veet?” he said, too upset to talk loud, for once.

Mary looked back at her mother, so stiff and small, her head tilted down as if her neck had frozen in place. She was staring at the wet ball of Kleenex clutched in her hands, saying nothing. Her silence had a depth of its own, and Mary had never seen her so still. It reminded her of an Italian proverb her mother always quoted, Dolori sono muti. Great griefs are mute.

Mary rose, turning to her father. “Pop, can this really be true? What were you thinking?”

Her father’s lips parted, and his gaze remained on her mother. “Veet, what you heard, I’m so, so sorry. It didn’t mean anything.”

Her mother didn’t look up, still silent, and Mary went to lawyer mode.

“Pop, what did you do? You were kissing Fiorella?”

Her father raised a finger, hushing her, and he took a step toward her mother. “Veet, I did not kiss her. We were eatin’ and talkin’ and all of a sudden, she leaned over the table and kissed me, on the cheek. But it was wrong, I know that, and I kind of came to my senses, and I said it was time for her to go back to Italy. She’s goin’ back tonight.”

Mary said nothing, and her mother remained frozen.

“I’m so sorry, Veet. It’s like, I don’ know, somethin’ came over me.” Her father threw up his hands, and they fell back to his sides with a flapping sound. “She made me feel all handsome and strong. It’s like a los’ my head for a while, but now I’m back and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mary’s throat caught, and her father looked over at her.

“Mare, you were right. I was flirtin’ back. It’s wrong and it’s disrespectful of your mother and it’s a sin, and I’m sorry to you, too.”

Mary felt his words touch her heart, but his wrong was ultimately against her mother, and only she could absolve him. “Pop, where is Fiorella now?”

“That’s a whole ’nother story.” Her father sighed, shaking his head. “After this happened, I said we should come home so she could pack, and we were on our way to the car and all of a sudden she said she got a bad feeling, like something bad was happening to Bennie.”

“Bennie, my Bennie?” Mary asked, surprised, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother raise her head.

“Yes, and she wouldn’t stop worrying about her, so I went to a pay phone and called your office to ask you if Bennie was okay, and Marshall said Bennie and Judy went out to dinner and you went home, so I came here.”

“Where’s Fiorella now?”

“She’s gone. Before I could stop her, she gets a cab and jumps in. I think she went to the restaurant.”

“What restaurant?”

“It was named Kangaroo, or something like that.”

“Roux?”

“I think that’s the one. Marshall heard Bennie tell Judy where they were goin’.”

“Pop, no!” Mary’s head exploded. “Bennie and Judy are meeting new clients there. Fiorella will ruin it!”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” her father said, and her mother moaned.

“I have to warn Bennie.” Mary slid out her BlackBerry, speed-dialed Bennie, and let it ring, but there was no answer. She speed-dialed Judy, but it went to voicemail. “Maybe we can still catch Fiorella. South Philly’s closer to the restaurant than the Art Museum.”

“Andiamo!” her mother said, already on her orthopedic shoes.

Mary hurried them from the kitchen, grabbed Grady on the fly, and went to rescue Bennie.

Chapter Eighty-six

Bennie glanced at the dashboard clock, glowing in the dark. It had been over an hour, and they had to be finished with dinner soon. The sidewalk was deserted in the downpour. The storm blew full force, the rain driving on a slant, bouncing off the sidewalks, washing down the gutters and thundering on the hood of her car.

She held the gun while she watched the entrance, planning her next step. Alice and Carrier would come out. They would either share a cab or not. If they shared a cab, she would follow it until it ended up at her own house, with Alice. If they didn’t share a cab, she would follow until Alice got out, probably at her house. And then it would be done.

Finally, the door to the restaurant opened, and Carrier emerged, followed by Alice, who put up an umbrella covered with crazy, colorful stripes. It had to belong to Carrier, and before, it would have made Bennie laugh. The women shared the umbrella, which hid their faces. Carrier’s yellow clogs practically glowed in the dark, and Bennie recognized her own brown pumps on Alice’s feet. Still she remained detached, waiting and watching.

Alice looped a hand through Carrier’s arm and they walked abreast, together under the umbrella. Carrier raised her right hand for a cab, but there weren’t any. The traffic had let up, and it wouldn’t be easy to get a cab down here. For some reason, they headed toward the Toyota, which Bennie didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense to keep walking away from Roux to catch a cab, and if they got much closer, they could see behind the truck and Alice would see her own car.

Bennie ducked down in the driver’s seat and peeked above the steering wheel. Rain ran in jagged rivulets down the windshield. She could barely make out Alice and Carrier, walking together, approaching the deserted stretch in front of the empty parking lot, with the dark loading dock.

She felt a tingle of alarm, without knowing why. Alice had an oddly close hold on Carrier’s left arm. Carrier’s right arm was up, waving for a cab. Then Carrier and Alice appeared to be talking under the umbrella, and in the next second, Carrier’s hand went down and Alice seemed to be pressing her toward the loading dock.

Something was wrong.

Carrier was in trouble.

Bennie grabbed the gun, cracked the door, and sneaked out, crouching so she couldn’t be seen. A van whizzed by and sprayed her with dirty water and gravel. She scrambled forward, still crouching along the side of the parked cars, and in four more cars, she’d reach Alice and Carrier.

One.

Two.