Mila? Maybe he didn’t want to spend what limited time he had asleep. If my clock was down to its last ticks, I’d want every second with my loved ones. But Felix had made no mention of family. I remembered his wife had been a suicide. The bar and the Round Table were his life.
But then, we all have limited time, don’t we? The awful truth we never want to acknowledge. The Rostov brothers probably had food in their fridge they’d never eat, phone calls and e-mails they’d never return, plans for this coming weekend. All gone, all to dust.
“Don’t come in tomorrow, I mean today; we’re not going to open. And if our new friend comes back…I don’t want you in danger. This isn’t your fight, Felix.”
“Sam, Diana and Janice are my concern. They brought this on you, and I’m sorry…and so it’s my fight, too.”
“Thank you.” His loyalty touched me.
“Good night, Sam.”
“Good night.” To be safe, in case there were angry, revenge-minded Russians waiting outside, I walked with Felix to his car parked in the small lot behind the bar’s building. I opened the locked gate. He got in and waved, and I watched his car vanish into the curtain of early morning fog.
I closed up the gate, locked it. Then realized—it hadn’t been locked when the woman ran out the back. Maybe someone had left it unlocked. Or someone had picked the lock.
An Audi ready to get the suburban dad—clearly the idea had been to force Diana out the back of the bar and into the waiting car. So perhaps the driver had gotten out and picked the lock. I examined the lock. I could see the scratches of picks against the edge of the mechanism.
Who exactly was I dealing with? Grigori Rostov might have been a run-of-the-mill thug, but the suburban dad and the man in black were not what I expected. Neither was the connection to a prominent businesswoman like Janice Keene.
I went back inside the bar. There is no place quite so lonely as an emptied bar. It is built for socialization, for civilization, and when it is empty, it’s like a stage bereft of actors. I walked upstairs and stripped and fell into the bed, the adrenaline of the night draining from my body. I shuddered under the blanket and cool, clean sheet.
I wondered if anyone had found the Rostov brother’s body yet. I wondered how soon I would be hearing again from Detective Anitra DeSoto.
I had killed before, and there is nothing glorious or honorable or cathartic about it, even when it’s done to save another or in self- defense . It’s an awful thing, an echo that takes too long to fade. This did not feel good. It felt lousy, horrible, all the things that DeSoto expected me to show on my face and that I didn’t. It made me feel like I had stepped further away from the regular life that I still craved. I was supposed to have a new normal: no more fighting, no more killing. Just traveling like a civilized man, making sure the bars ran well and made a strong profit, coming home to my son. Playing with him on the floor, watching his face light up with a smile, changing his diapers, rolling a ball to him, singing along with the Wiggles, or watching old Mickey Mouse cartoons.
That life of normalcy.
Normalcy might be on vacation. I turned and stared up at the ceiling and wondered what the cool-voiced man on the phone thought he could offer me, in my heart of hearts.
14
Friday, November 5, very early morning
OMG two whole weeks vacay in the Med! Gonna soak up some sun Corfu style! Thanks Grams you rock LOL!!!!!
Diana had told Lily that sharing your travel plans on a social networking site was tantamount to stenciling PLEASE ROB THIS HOUSE WHILE I’M GONE on your front door, so Lily deleted the status, but now Diana was grateful for her friend’s indiscretion. As of tonight Lily still had ten days to soak up her Corfu sun, and now Diana unlocked the gate to the front door and closed it behind her. Lily had given Diana a key when Lily was given the town house in the Marina
But then, we all have limited time, don’t we? The awful truth we never want to acknowledge. The Rostov brothers probably had food in their fridge they’d never eat, phone calls and e-mails they’d never return, plans for this coming weekend. All gone, all to dust.
“Don’t come in tomorrow, I mean today; we’re not going to open. And if our new friend comes back…I don’t want you in danger. This isn’t your fight, Felix.”
“Sam, Diana and Janice are my concern. They brought this on you, and I’m sorry…and so it’s my fight, too.”
“Thank you.” His loyalty touched me.
“Good night, Sam.”
“Good night.” To be safe, in case there were angry, revenge-minded Russians waiting outside, I walked with Felix to his car parked in the small lot behind the bar’s building. I opened the locked gate. He got in and waved, and I watched his car vanish into the curtain of early morning fog.
I closed up the gate, locked it. Then realized—it hadn’t been locked when the woman ran out the back. Maybe someone had left it unlocked. Or someone had picked the lock.
An Audi ready to get the suburban dad—clearly the idea had been to force Diana out the back of the bar and into the waiting car. So perhaps the driver had gotten out and picked the lock. I examined the lock. I could see the scratches of picks against the edge of the mechanism.
Who exactly was I dealing with? Grigori Rostov might have been a run-of-the-mill thug, but the suburban dad and the man in black were not what I expected. Neither was the connection to a prominent businesswoman like Janice Keene.
I went back inside the bar. There is no place quite so lonely as an emptied bar. It is built for socialization, for civilization, and when it is empty, it’s like a stage bereft of actors. I walked upstairs and stripped and fell into the bed, the adrenaline of the night draining from my body. I shuddered under the blanket and cool, clean sheet.
I wondered if anyone had found the Rostov brother’s body yet. I wondered how soon I would be hearing again from Detective Anitra DeSoto.
I had killed before, and there is nothing glorious or honorable or cathartic about it, even when it’s done to save another or in self- defense . It’s an awful thing, an echo that takes too long to fade. This did not feel good. It felt lousy, horrible, all the things that DeSoto expected me to show on my face and that I didn’t. It made me feel like I had stepped further away from the regular life that I still craved. I was supposed to have a new normal: no more fighting, no more killing. Just traveling like a civilized man, making sure the bars ran well and made a strong profit, coming home to my son. Playing with him on the floor, watching his face light up with a smile, changing his diapers, rolling a ball to him, singing along with the Wiggles, or watching old Mickey Mouse cartoons.
That life of normalcy.
Normalcy might be on vacation. I turned and stared up at the ceiling and wondered what the cool-voiced man on the phone thought he could offer me, in my heart of hearts.
14
Friday, November 5, very early morning
OMG two whole weeks vacay in the Med! Gonna soak up some sun Corfu style! Thanks Grams you rock LOL!!!!!
Diana had told Lily that sharing your travel plans on a social networking site was tantamount to stenciling PLEASE ROB THIS HOUSE WHILE I’M GONE on your front door, so Lily deleted the status, but now Diana was grateful for her friend’s indiscretion. As of tonight Lily still had ten days to soak up her Corfu sun, and now Diana unlocked the gate to the front door and closed it behind her. Lily had given Diana a key when Lily was given the town house in the Marina
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