“Yeah, I made discreet inquiries into that, Archer, through some PIs I know down there. The lady’s body was found, the cops did their investigation, and they concluded that it indeed looked like self-defense. She had fired two rounds into the chair, I assume, you were sitting in. She missed, you didn’t.”
“They’re really going to leave it like that?”
“You deduced that the lady was selling drugs. Well, the cops down there were already looking her way on that as well. So the consensus in Ventura is she got what was coming to her. End of story.”
“Damn, I didn’t expect that.”
“Second thing, the Kempers added another nine grand to the retainer already paid, for a total of ten thou in appreciation of a job well done and a cancer named Sawyer Armstrong no longer being in their lives. So my money problems are over, for now, at least.”
“That’s great. So, what is my salary and when do I start getting paid? Connie didn’t know, and you never said.”
“Third thing, all the folks who were at the Cliffs are keeping their traps shut. Pickett and Prichard, Hank and Tony, and the other two goons know they’re looking at murder and kidnapping and assault charges and a long stint in the big house if they say one word. So we’re good there. Now, in an ideal world, they’d all be going to the slammer or the gas chamber, but proof is hard to come by, and I doubt Hank and Tony can make a living without Armstrong around. They’ll melt into the dirt, like a water lily in the Sahara. And Pickett and Prichard are leaving town. And good riddance.”
“Okay.”
“Fourth thing, Beth inherited everything that Armstrong had. So she’s even richer than she was. And Douglas is going to be the new mayor, so that hunk of rock out there will stay a hunk of rock. And it looks like with Armstrong out of the way, those two are going to make it. True love wins out, right?”
“Right. And fifth?”
“There is no fifth, except what’s in that bottle of scotch over there. Okay, I’m done, Archer. Go off and play today.”
Archer rose and headed to the door.
Dash said, “Hey Archer?”
“Yeah?”
“You got the makings of a decent gumshoe. Just keep at it, okay?”
Archer nodded. “That wasn’t really Ma Barker’s tommy gun, was it?”
“Who the hell knows? But when you pick up a weapon like that, you got to do it with style.”
Archer signed his application and Morrison said she would be mailing it out that day. And then she did something that surprised Archer. From behind a vase of flowers she lifted up a long-stemmed glass with some liquid in it.
“What’s that?” asked Archer.
“Champagne, of course. Lots to celebrate. You want a glass?”
“Thanks, but I’m saving myself for something a little more amber in color.” He crossed the reception area and went into his office. He sat down at his desk and noted the single sunflower that presumably Morrison had put in the vase. It was already drooping from lack of sun. Archer moved it to the windowsill, and it seemed to perk right up.
There was a knock on his door.
“Yeah?”
It opened and there stood Dash.
“Forgot something, Archer.” He took out his wallet, peeled off eight C-notes and ten Jacksons, and handed them to Archer. “Your weekly wages. Just don’t expect that kind of dough every time, capiche?”
“Thanks, Willie,” said Archer.
“Now how about using some of it to buy me lunch?”
“I know a place down by the water.”
“I know you know a place down by the water, only my gams aren’t nearly as fetching as Beth Kemper’s, so don’t get your hopes up, son. Hey, I wonder if they serve Cream of Wheat?”
The two men walked out into the clearest sky Archer had seen since he’d been in Bay Town.
Chapter 71
EARLY THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON Archer drove to Midnight Moods. Mabel Dawson was back from Long Beach, and she nodded to him as he walked in.
“Long time no see, Archer.”
“Yeah, I can’t seem to stay away from this place.”
“This place is under new management,” she added. “Beth Kemper came by this morning. Told me no reason to change a ship’s course midvoyage, though she did say the girls can’t have ‘visitors’ at lunchtime.”
“They were probably bad for the digestion, anyway.”
“You’re here to see Liberty, I suppose?”
“I am.”
“Well, considering it’s only just after one, you’ll probably find her in bed.”
He headed up to Callahan’s room and knocked on the door.
“Yeah, who is it?”
“It’s Archer. You decent?”
“Same answer as last time, Archer.”
The door opened and there she stood in a sheer black silk number, her hair tousled and her face puffy from sleep. And she looked more beautiful than ever, Archer thought. If Beth Kemper was all cool class, Liberty Callahan was the white-hot flame of the working-class gal used to the rough and tumble of the world. And it wasn’t a close competition which one intrigued Archer more.
“Miss me?” he asked.
“Yeah, you’re all I’ve been thinking about, buster.”
She stepped back so he could pass through.
He looked around and saw the few personal touches she had made to the place.
“How’re your eyes?” he asked, noticing they were still a bit swollen but the black and yellow was fading back to pale white.
“Nothing makeup can’t take care of. Nobody notices when I’m doing my act. And my arm’s all better where they twisted it.”
“Still packing the house?”
“What can I say? I’m a star.”
“Beth Kemper owns this place now.”
“Yeah, I heard. Good to see a woman taking charge.”
“So you still happy here?”
“Well, I signed a contract for a year, as you know. After that, I’ll probably be taking a bus to Hollywood. That’s where I need to be. I’m not getting a star turn in Bay Town, at least the one I want.”
She sat in a chair and crossed her legs and that got Archer’s attention, and he sat, too, and tried not to think about her leaving in a year, or about how little she was wearing.
She looked at his gloomy expression. “Why, you going to miss me?” she said.
“Yeah, I will, actually.”
“Don’t make me get all weepy,” replied Callahan in a mocking tone, but her expression showed that his words had touched her.
He twirled his hat between his fingers. “Look, I came here to apologize for getting you involved in all this.”
“No need. Almost getting killed makes a girl feel more alive than a dozen roses, a plate of oysters on the half shell, or soaking in a tub full of Chanel Number Five.”
She lit a cigarette and Archer mimicked her.
They blew smoke and stared across at each other, maybe both looking for some sign of something in the other.
“Decent of you to see it that way.”
She crossed her legs again and she said, “That’s me, Archer, decent to my core, as you can see for yourself.”
“So what are we really doing here?” said Archer.
“Beats me. I’m just making it up as I go along. And, in case you forgot, you knocked on my door.”
“Yeah, I did,” he said and then fell into an awkward silence. This was clearly not going how he intended.
“You want a drink?” she asked in a helpful tone.
“Sure, why not? Seems like everybody’s drinking these days.”
She rose and went to a small cabinet. She got down on her knees, opened one of the doors, and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He could see that the bottoms of her feet were pale and smooth, and that, of all things, made something go haywire in part of his brain.
“You know, technically to be called ‘bourbon,’ it has to be made in Kentucky,” said Archer quickl
y, loosening his tie to allow more air to come in.
She poured out three fingers each and said, “There goes the college boy again.”
They sat and drank and stared at each other.
“Anything you want to tell me?” asked Archer.
“Should there be something?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”
“I don’t like running in circles. I get dizzy easily.”
Archer was going to say something right back, but he took a page from his old friend Irving Shaw’s book and slowed down. He looked at Callahan and she looked right back at him. She just wanted to get out of Reno, just like Archer. She wanted to chase a dream to the West Coast.
Just like me.
She saved both our lives up in those mountains.
At first, it had shocked him, that a woman could do that. But if he’d had the gun and not Callahan?
I would have shot all three and felt like a hero.
She tries to be confident and in control, but it’s sometimes just a show, because, inside, she’s scared to death.
Just like me. We’re actually a lot alike.
“Archer, you still breathing in there, or should I call a doctor?”
He came out of his musings. “I’m here.” He took a nervous sip of his drink. “I know we both said some things we probably regret. At least I do.”
“It happens, Archer. But I think we both made up for it, right?”
“Yeah, I guess we did.”
“I mean, we’ve been through a lot. More than most married couples have, right?”
“I didn’t come here to propose.”
She laughed a deep, throaty laugh that, for some reason, made Archer feel wonderful about himself. “I’m not ready to settle down, Archer, not by a long shot. But if I ever did, well, I could do a lot worse than taking a ring from you.”
He held up his glass to her and added a warm smile.
She stretched her leg out and touched his shoe with her bare foot and kept it there. “So that thing that happened in the mountains? Are we good on that?”
“They killed Bobby H. They were going to kill us. They deserved what they got. Hell, we let the little guy off easy.”
“You didn’t think that back then,” she pointed out.
“And maybe I was wrong.”
She took a sip of her drink and studied what she had left. “No, you weren’t, Archer. If I’d shot that little weasel in cold blood?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what it would have done to me, but none of it would be good. So, I have to thank you for doing what you did.”
“Okay.”
“I see their faces in my sleep,” she said quietly. “I see how they died.”
“Yeah. I suppose you do.”
She shot him an anxious look. “Does it ever go away?”
“Not completely, no. But you see the faces less and less as time goes on and not nearly as clearly.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But if you ever see them so much that you can’t handle it, give me a call. I’ll be right over.”
“You’re a good man, Aloysius Archer.”
“Surprised you remembered my given name.”
“I plan to keep on surprising you. They say it’s good for a relationship.”
He grinned, and took another swallow of his drink. “Oh, so we have a relationship now?”
“I think so.”
“I actually know so. And I’m lucky for it.”
“Hell, we’re just gushing over each other. I’m starting to feel giddy.”
“I’m feeling something too, only it’s not that.”
This was the first and only time he had ever seen Liberty Callahan blush. It was a lovely look on the woman.
“You want to take me to lunch?” she said, a bit breathlessly.
“No, but I will take you to dinner.”
“So what do we do in the meantime?”
Archer put his glass down, took off his jacket, undid his tie completely, and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“If you have to ask, lady, then I’m really doing something wrong.”
She stood and slid her soft hand along his hard jaw.
“Oh, you’re not wrong, Archer. You just need to work on your timing, is all. But I got at least a year to help you with that.”
She took him by the hand, led him into her bedroom, and closed the door.
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Acknowledgments
To Michelle, back to the forties with Archer. Right now, it beats the present day. And I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.
To Michael Pietsch, Ben Sevier, Elizabeth Kulhanek, Jonathan Valuckas, Matthew Ballast, Beth de Guzman, Anthony Goff, Rena Kornbluh, Karen Kosztolnyik, Brian McLendon, Albert Tang, Andy Dodds, Ivy Cheng, Joseph Benincase, Andrew Duncan, Morgan Swift, Bob Castillo, Kristen Lemire, Briana Loewen, Mark Steven Long, Thomas Louie, Rachael Kelly, Kirsiah McNamara, Nita Basu, Lisa Cahn, Megan Fitzpatrick, Michele McGonigle, John Colucci, Alison Lazarus, Barry Broadhead, Martha Bucci, Rick Cobban, Ali Cutrone, Raylan Davis, Tracy Dowd, Melanie Freedman, Jean Griffin, Elizabeth Blue Guess, Linda Jamison, John Leary, John Lefler, Rachel Hairston, Suzanne Marx, Derek Meehan, Christopher Murphy, Donna Nopper, Rob Philpott, Barbara Slavin, Karen Torres, Rich Tullis, Mary Urban, Tracy Williams, Julie Hernandez, Laura Shepherd, Jeff Shay, Carla Stockalper, Ky’ron Fitzgerald, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, for running on all cylinders for me.
To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs, Lisa Erbach Vance, Frances Jalet-Miller, and Kristen Pini, for making my life much easier.
To Mitch Hoffman, for doing what you do so well.
To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Alex Saunders, Sara Lloyd, Claire Evans, Sarah Arratoon, Laura Sherlock, Stuart Dwyer, Jonathan Atkins, Christine Jones, Leanne Williams, Stacey Hamilton, Charlotte Williams, Rebecca Kellaway, and Neil Lang at Pan Macmillan, for continuing to knock it out of the park.
To Praveen Naidoo and the stellar team at Pan Macmillan in Australia, for doing such an amazing job for me.
To Caspian Dennis and Sandy Violette, for being such great advocates for me.
And to Kristen White and Michelle Butler, for being the absolute best.
About the Author
David Baldacci is a global #1 bestselling author, and one of the world’s favorite storytellers. His books are published in over forty-five languages and in more than eighty countries, with 150 million copies sold worldwide. His works have been adapted for both feature film and television. David Baldacci is also the cofounder, along with his wife, of the Wish You Well Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting literacy efforts across America. Still a resident of his native Virginia, he invites you to visit him at DavidBaldacci.com and his foundation at WishYouWellFoundation.org.
ACCLAIM FOR
DAVID BALDACCI’S THRILLERS
ONE GOOD DEED
“One of [Baldacci’s] finest books. Great character, great story, great portrait of an era.”
—Bill Clinton
“Insightful and entertaining, Baldacci has captured the time and events perfectly with authenticity, beauty, and flawless prose…Archer is a terrific anti-hero with plenty of longevity and originality, [and] the supporting cast is just as memorable. Gripping from beginning to end.”
—New York Journal of Books
“David Baldacci is a master storyteller, and he invokes the classic feel of the postwar 1940s evident in the timeless literature and film of that time…doesn’t disappoint.”
—Associated Press
“David Baldacci switches gears with magnificent results…simmering suspense and splendid prose…Terrific reading entertainment.”
—Providence Journal
WALK THE WIRE
“Walk the Wire solidifies Baldacci’s status as this ge
neration’s premier storyteller…The perfect thriller.”
—Providence Journal
“Walk the Wire may be the finest entry in David Baldacci’s Memory Man series. The quality of his writing is at an all-time peak and, fortunately for his countless fans, he is showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.”
—BookReporter.com
“Intrepid…Although it’s the sixth in a series, the book stands perfectly well on its own, providing many hours of enjoyable reading.”
—Mystery Scene magazine
A MINUTE TO MIDNIGHT
“Secrets and twists pop up seemingly on every page…an angst-riddled tale with a Southern Gothic tone. This is brilliant storytelling that will leave you reading long after the clock strikes 12.”
—Providence Journal
“A murder mystery that spooks and horrifies.”
—Associated Press
“Baldacci has produced another remarkable novel with plot twists galore that let the pages practically turn themselves. His writing style allows readers to immediately enter the action and then forces them to strap in for another wild ride. He saves the biggest surprise for last in a moment that will provide an unexpected cliffhanger, which will have his audience eagerly awaiting the next entry.”
—BookReporter.com
“Baldacci does a fantastic job plotting things out and revealing just enough…to keep readers engaged and on the edge of their seats…A final surprise [will] leave fans begging for more…Few writers can hook readers faster and harder than David Baldacci.”
—Real Book Spy
ALSO BY DAVID BALDACCI
ALOYSIUS ARCHER SERIES
One Good Deed
A Gambling Man
ATLEE PINE SERIES
Long Road to Mercy
A Minute to Midnight
Daylight
WILL ROBIE SERIES
The Innocent
A Gambling Man Page 39