“I’ll get a subpoena and be back here in an hour. Let’s see how happy Nell Benson is with you then.”
“Fine!” Flanagan said.
“Fine!” Melanie shot back. Then, having painted herself into a corner, she had no choice but to march defiantly out of the room, leaving Dan to follow.
“YOU’RE SOME HELLCAT!” DAN SAID, SMILING, as he caught up with her. “I’m very impressed.”
“Oh, come on, I completely screwed that up. I lost my temper when I should’ve just swallowed my pride and backed down, so we could get what we needed.”
“And let that drunken bum Bill Flanagan walk all over you? I wouldn’t stand for it.”
“You know him?”
“My dad was the lieutenant who took away his gun.”
“No kidding, your father’s a cop?”
“He was. He’s retired now. I’m from cops on both sides. My father and grandfather were on the job, a bunch of uncles on my mother’s side, some cousins. Everyone else is a rubberman.”
“Rubberman?”
“Fireman. Firefighter I guess is what you say now.”
“Wow. You must have felt so solid growing up with all that behind you,” Melanie said wistfully. How cozy, to come from a nice middle-class background, and just stay there. Unlike Melanie, who’d come up so far in the world that she didn’t fit in her own life.
“I guess. I liked that I could walk into any precinct in the city as a kid and find somebody to buy me a Coke anyway.”
“Speaking of, I could sure use one right about now. Do you have a dollar? Because I only have a twenty,” Melanie said as they walked past the soda machine.
Dan dug into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out two crumpled dollar bills. He smoothed them between his fingers and handed them to her.
“Here. Get me one, too, wouldja?” he said.
“Is this all the money you have?”
He grinned sheepishly. “At the moment, but I get paid Friday.”
“It’s only Wednesday.”
“Yeah, but you’re thirsty now.”
She shook her head and gave the bills back to him. He walked right over and fed them into the soda machine. “Regular or diet?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Diet.”
Two sodas plunked out. Dan came back and pressed an ice-cold can into her hand.
“You shouldn’t walk around this town with no money in your pocket, you know,” she said.
“What do I need money for? I got a gun.”
She smiled, popping the top and taking a sip, aware that he was watching her.
“I’ll never be a rich man, but whatever I have is yours, sweetheart,” he said.
“What is that, a marriage proposal?”
“Is it too soon?” he asked with an easy smile, looking down into her eyes.
“No, it’s too late.” She waved her left hand at him. She’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing her rings. The empty space on her finger was conspicuous because of the tan line.
“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.