in. There’s just nothing like reliving old times,” I said sarcastically.
I slid my gaze away from him to Barbaro. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me. It’s been a very bad, very long day. I’ll see myself out.”
I walked away and out the door, past the valet stand. I had parked in the lower lot. A Glock 9mm lived in a secret panel in the driver’s door of my car. I couldn’t take the risk of the gun falling into the hands of a minimum-wage sixteen-year-old bored with waiting on rich people.
“Elena!”
Barbaro. He jogged to catch up with me. But when he did, he didn’t seem to know what to say. He had the expression of someone who had come in on the middle of a conversation.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what just happened.”
“I’m sure your good friend will fill you in,” I said. “A word to the wise, though: Don’t invest too heavily in giving him an alibi. If I find out he had something to do with Irina’s murder, I’ll make very certain that he pays for it, and I won’t care who gets in my way.”
“That’s crazy! Bennett is a good friend.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Several years. He would never have anything to do with harming a woman.”
“Really? Why not? Because he’s handsome? Because he’s charming? Because he’s rich?” I asked. “For such a worldly man, Mr. Barbaro, you are terribly naive. When you go back in there and sit down to have a drink with your pal, ask him if the name Maria Nevin means anything to him.
“And whatever he tells you, know this: Bennett Walker is a liar and a rapist. I know, because I was his alibi once too.”
He didn’t know what to say to that and wisely chose to say nothing at all.
I turned to open my car door. Barbaro put a hand on my shoulder.
“Elena, please don’t leave angry.”
He was standing too close. I didn’t turn to face him.
“I’m not angry with you.”
“You are angry with the world, I think.”
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling very beaten by the day. Physically beaten. Emotionally spent. His hand moved from my shoulder to touch the back of my head.
“Please don’t try to comfort me,” I said. “I really don’t think I can take it right now.”
“You are always the strong one?”
“I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. If you’ll excuse me now, I really have to go.”
He moved a step to the side so I could open the car door.
“May I call you?” he asked.
I laughed without humor. “I can’t imagine why you would want to. I haven’t been the most pleasant company.”
“The death of a friend does not create pleasant circumstances. Still…This does not change the fact that you are a beautiful, complex, interesting woman, and I would like the chance to get to know you better.”
“Hmmm…You’re a brave soul,” I said, looking at him. In the film-noir black-and-white light of the parking lot, he was starkly beautiful, and I could feel the sexual energy that rolled off him in waves.
“Fortune favors the brave,” he said, and he leaned forward and kissed me gently, briefly. Just long enough to make me think I might want more.
“You’re naughty!”
The voice came from the far side of my car. A person of indeterminate gender stood in back of the car parked next to mine, staring at us. A woman, I thought from the voice. But there were no other indicators. She was covered in what looked to be a black unitard that exposed only the features of her face, features painted on like a character from Cirque du Soleil. On top of her head was a conical black hat with a pom-pom at the end.
“You’re very naughty!” she said. “Like the others. Very naughty!”
Barbaro took a couple of menacing steps in her direction. “Get away from here, Freak! Go! Go before I call the police and they arrest your crazy ass!”
The Freak curtsied and ran away awkwardly on high platform shoes. She crawled through the pipe gate that led onto the Palm Beach Polo development and was
I slid my gaze away from him to Barbaro. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me. It’s been a very bad, very long day. I’ll see myself out.”
I walked away and out the door, past the valet stand. I had parked in the lower lot. A Glock 9mm lived in a secret panel in the driver’s door of my car. I couldn’t take the risk of the gun falling into the hands of a minimum-wage sixteen-year-old bored with waiting on rich people.
“Elena!”
Barbaro. He jogged to catch up with me. But when he did, he didn’t seem to know what to say. He had the expression of someone who had come in on the middle of a conversation.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what just happened.”
“I’m sure your good friend will fill you in,” I said. “A word to the wise, though: Don’t invest too heavily in giving him an alibi. If I find out he had something to do with Irina’s murder, I’ll make very certain that he pays for it, and I won’t care who gets in my way.”
“That’s crazy! Bennett is a good friend.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Several years. He would never have anything to do with harming a woman.”
“Really? Why not? Because he’s handsome? Because he’s charming? Because he’s rich?” I asked. “For such a worldly man, Mr. Barbaro, you are terribly naive. When you go back in there and sit down to have a drink with your pal, ask him if the name Maria Nevin means anything to him.
“And whatever he tells you, know this: Bennett Walker is a liar and a rapist. I know, because I was his alibi once too.”
He didn’t know what to say to that and wisely chose to say nothing at all.
I turned to open my car door. Barbaro put a hand on my shoulder.
“Elena, please don’t leave angry.”
He was standing too close. I didn’t turn to face him.
“I’m not angry with you.”
“You are angry with the world, I think.”
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling very beaten by the day. Physically beaten. Emotionally spent. His hand moved from my shoulder to touch the back of my head.
“Please don’t try to comfort me,” I said. “I really don’t think I can take it right now.”
“You are always the strong one?”
“I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. If you’ll excuse me now, I really have to go.”
He moved a step to the side so I could open the car door.
“May I call you?” he asked.
I laughed without humor. “I can’t imagine why you would want to. I haven’t been the most pleasant company.”
“The death of a friend does not create pleasant circumstances. Still…This does not change the fact that you are a beautiful, complex, interesting woman, and I would like the chance to get to know you better.”
“Hmmm…You’re a brave soul,” I said, looking at him. In the film-noir black-and-white light of the parking lot, he was starkly beautiful, and I could feel the sexual energy that rolled off him in waves.
“Fortune favors the brave,” he said, and he leaned forward and kissed me gently, briefly. Just long enough to make me think I might want more.
“You’re naughty!”
The voice came from the far side of my car. A person of indeterminate gender stood in back of the car parked next to mine, staring at us. A woman, I thought from the voice. But there were no other indicators. She was covered in what looked to be a black unitard that exposed only the features of her face, features painted on like a character from Cirque du Soleil. On top of her head was a conical black hat with a pom-pom at the end.
“You’re very naughty!” she said. “Like the others. Very naughty!”
Barbaro took a couple of menacing steps in her direction. “Get away from here, Freak! Go! Go before I call the police and they arrest your crazy ass!”
The Freak curtsied and ran away awkwardly on high platform shoes. She crawled through the pipe gate that led onto the Palm Beach Polo development and was
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