Paul does contact you, will you call me?” He drew a business card from his pocket and stretched to hand it to Emmett.
“If you want me to be honest,” Emmett said, taking the card and laying it in a puddle next to the beer can, “that’d depend on what Paul has to say about them killings.”
“Whatever he has to say, it’ll be easier for him if I find him before the police do. I want to help him, Emmett. And he’s not the type to give himself up easily, is he?”
“No, he’s not that. He’d be scared and angry and get himself hurt or killed—or maybe even kill somebody else out of fear. In his way, he’s gut-deep stubborn. All us Kaves are.”
Carver had gathered that. “Thanks for your help,” he said, and stood up. “Can we talk again about Paul sometime?”
“Sure thing.” Emmett got up and walked with him to the door. “You do me and Paul a favor and don’t mention to Adam that Paul’s dropped by here now and then the past several years. Paul was always scared Adam’d find out. I figure Paul’s innocent, and when all this trouble dies down, I don’t want him thinking I ratted on him and got him in deep shit with old Adam.”
Carver almost refused. After all, Adam Kave was his client and he had a professional obligation of loyalty.
But that was ridiculous, an automatic twinge of obligation and nothing more. An illusion of professionalism. He was already deceiving his client, using him. And under the circumstances his behavior was justified. An eye for an eye, a son for a son.
“Okay, Emmett. Our secret.”
Emmett held out a bacon-scented hand and they shook on the deal, leaving Carver’s fingers greasy. The screen door creaked shut, and Emmett faded into interior dimness.
As Carver made his way across the desert of the yard and back to his car, he was sure the old man was grinning behind the dark screen.
Emmett got off on sharing secrets his brother didn’t know.
Chapter 13
T HE NEXT DAY DAWNED red and mean, as if Mother Nature bore a grudge against mankind. Well, maybe she did. Carver looked out the car window at the rows of expensive homes and high-rise condominiums cluttering the majestic shore and supposed she had reason enough.
He found the Kave family eating breakfast on a screened-in veranda overlooking the ocean. A rust-colored awning had been rolled out overhead to block the sun. The screen was silver, unlike the dark mesh of Emmett’s front door, and the view through it somehow made the Atlantic seem brighter and more shot with sun. Occasionally a hot breeze would kick up off the ocean, causing the awning to flap like a sail. The air that morning was thick and felt silky on Carver’s bare arms and face.
Adam sat at the head of the rectangular glass-topped table, Elana at the opposite end. Nadine had answered Carver’s ring and, after leading him to the veranda, took her seat again before a partly eaten half-grapefruit with a sprinkling of sugar over it. Carver tried to imagine Paul seated opposite his sister but couldn’t.
“Care for some breakfast, Carver?” Adam Kave asked. He was wearing a white-on-white shirt and blue-striped tie today, as if he might be going somewhere or was prepared to meet someone. The breeze tried to ruffle his slicked-back graying hair but couldn’t manage; a victory for Brylcreem.
Carver declined the offer of breakfast, but he sat down at the table, where Paul might have sat had he been there. The proximity of his quarry in space if not time felt eerie. “I’ve been to see Emmett,” he said.
Elana dabbed nervously at her lips with her pink cloth napkin. She had on the same delicately laced robe she’d worn yesterday. Adam sipped his coffee from a dainty cup that looked lost and imperiled in his big hand, and peered at Carver over the rim. There was a pink flowery design on the cup, traversed by a hairline crack. Carver for some reason remembered vaguely a line from an Auden poem memorized in school, something about a crack in the
“If you want me to be honest,” Emmett said, taking the card and laying it in a puddle next to the beer can, “that’d depend on what Paul has to say about them killings.”
“Whatever he has to say, it’ll be easier for him if I find him before the police do. I want to help him, Emmett. And he’s not the type to give himself up easily, is he?”
“No, he’s not that. He’d be scared and angry and get himself hurt or killed—or maybe even kill somebody else out of fear. In his way, he’s gut-deep stubborn. All us Kaves are.”
Carver had gathered that. “Thanks for your help,” he said, and stood up. “Can we talk again about Paul sometime?”
“Sure thing.” Emmett got up and walked with him to the door. “You do me and Paul a favor and don’t mention to Adam that Paul’s dropped by here now and then the past several years. Paul was always scared Adam’d find out. I figure Paul’s innocent, and when all this trouble dies down, I don’t want him thinking I ratted on him and got him in deep shit with old Adam.”
Carver almost refused. After all, Adam Kave was his client and he had a professional obligation of loyalty.
But that was ridiculous, an automatic twinge of obligation and nothing more. An illusion of professionalism. He was already deceiving his client, using him. And under the circumstances his behavior was justified. An eye for an eye, a son for a son.
“Okay, Emmett. Our secret.”
Emmett held out a bacon-scented hand and they shook on the deal, leaving Carver’s fingers greasy. The screen door creaked shut, and Emmett faded into interior dimness.
As Carver made his way across the desert of the yard and back to his car, he was sure the old man was grinning behind the dark screen.
Emmett got off on sharing secrets his brother didn’t know.
Chapter 13
T HE NEXT DAY DAWNED red and mean, as if Mother Nature bore a grudge against mankind. Well, maybe she did. Carver looked out the car window at the rows of expensive homes and high-rise condominiums cluttering the majestic shore and supposed she had reason enough.
He found the Kave family eating breakfast on a screened-in veranda overlooking the ocean. A rust-colored awning had been rolled out overhead to block the sun. The screen was silver, unlike the dark mesh of Emmett’s front door, and the view through it somehow made the Atlantic seem brighter and more shot with sun. Occasionally a hot breeze would kick up off the ocean, causing the awning to flap like a sail. The air that morning was thick and felt silky on Carver’s bare arms and face.
Adam sat at the head of the rectangular glass-topped table, Elana at the opposite end. Nadine had answered Carver’s ring and, after leading him to the veranda, took her seat again before a partly eaten half-grapefruit with a sprinkling of sugar over it. Carver tried to imagine Paul seated opposite his sister but couldn’t.
“Care for some breakfast, Carver?” Adam Kave asked. He was wearing a white-on-white shirt and blue-striped tie today, as if he might be going somewhere or was prepared to meet someone. The breeze tried to ruffle his slicked-back graying hair but couldn’t manage; a victory for Brylcreem.
Carver declined the offer of breakfast, but he sat down at the table, where Paul might have sat had he been there. The proximity of his quarry in space if not time felt eerie. “I’ve been to see Emmett,” he said.
Elana dabbed nervously at her lips with her pink cloth napkin. She had on the same delicately laced robe she’d worn yesterday. Adam sipped his coffee from a dainty cup that looked lost and imperiled in his big hand, and peered at Carver over the rim. There was a pink flowery design on the cup, traversed by a hairline crack. Carver for some reason remembered vaguely a line from an Auden poem memorized in school, something about a crack in the
Similar Books
