by Todd Morgan
I slowly approached, my eyes dancing to the woods along the side of the abandoned mill, up the stairs, even to the window of my office. I played the moves out in my mind, rehearsing them. Pull the pistol as I dropped. Take out the partner. Roll into the brush. Find the threat. Eliminate the threat.
He held out both hands, reading my wariness. “I’m not here for trouble.”
“Where’s Starling?” I asked without looking at him.
“I left him at the bar.”
“Where’s your truck?”
“Bird’s truck. It’s still at the bar.”
“How’d you get here?”
“I walked.”
“At least three miles to the nearest tavern.”
“Tell me about it.”
I finally gave him my full attention. Not full, but close. He appeared to be on the verge of shivering. I kept my hand on the gun in my pocket. “What are you here for? If it’s not trouble?”
“To talk.” His accent was strong, like something from another world, hard on the A’s, light on the R’s.
“Where are you from? South Shore?”
He smiled. “You’ve been to Boston?” Bahston.
“No. Served with a boy from there. Talked funny like you.”
He shook his head. “I’m not from Boston.”
I waited.
He finally said, “Providence.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
He shook his hands and I nodded and he let them fall to his sides. “About the girl.”
“What about her?”
“You’re a hard one, aren’t you?”
I shrugged.
“I did my research on you, Camp.”
“I’m sure it was fascinating.”
“Army Ranger. Two tours in Afghanistan, one in Iraq. Couple of Purple Hearts. A Silver Star. Chest full of medals.”
***
I was getting out of the shower, fresh back from my last tour. A shortened tour. Stella stood naked in front of the mirror, brushing her long blond hair, still wet from the shower we had shared. It took my breath away. Months and months in sandland, thinking about that sight. Her body was flawless, toned and muscular. Soon it would be undergoing the change, her stomach extending and dropping. The breasts growing even fuller. Ankles swelling. Not for long though. One month after the birth of Sarah and you wouldn’t even be able to tell.
She smiled at me. Perfect white teeth behind full lips. That smile had hypnotized me from the moment I laid eyes on her. “You’re dripping all over the floor.”
“Sorry.” I took the towel from the rack and began drying.
“Wow.”
I turned to face her. “What? My rock hard abs?”
“No. It’s the first time I’ve seen it.”
I looked over my shoulder. The flesh was still red, raw.
“How did you get shot in the ass?”
“Because I was running like hell.”
***
“Bronze Star,” I corrected. “What about the girl?”
He sighed. “I know Bird came on a little strong.”
“A little?”
He laughed. His body remained perfectly still. “We mean the girl no harm. We only want her found.”
“That makes three of us. Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Bird does.”
“They old friends or something?”
“Couldn’t tell you. I can tell you, though, that we won’t hurt her. She has nothing to fear from us.”
“And I do?”
“Maybe. Bird is a bull in a china shop. That’s the only way he knows.”
“So bullying me is the path to the girl?”
“In his mind.”
I nodded. I had known people like Clarence Starling my entire life. “How did you end up with him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Bird is an asshole. You’re a guy who seems…competent.”
“Nobody is perfect.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“What did you do? To win the Bronze Star?”
“I lived. Everybody else died.”
Chapter Seventeen
Five thirty on a Friday, there was only one sure place to find a cop. Angel’s Bar and Grill was full of them. I got a half dozen smiles and a dozen dirty looks as I made my way through. Randy was perched on the corner, a tall draft before him. He was overjoyed to see me.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Maybe overjoyed wasn’t the word for it. Before I could answer, the barkeep stretched his hand over the walnut bar. “Beason, where have you been? My profits have plummeted since you resigned.”
Randy said, “He was fired, Angel.”
I ignored him. “I’ve been drinking with a better class of people.”
“Yeah? I heard you’ve been hanging out with pimps and crack whores.”
“Like I said.”
Angel laughed. He had put in his twenty and promptly opened the bar. He made a drink and passed it over. “On the house,” he said. “For old times.”
“Thanks.” I sipped it. A double shot of dark Bacardi over ice with enough coke to change the color. And a lime. It was perfect. Angel nodded and went to serve his thirsty patrons.
Randy said, “I’m off the clock.”
I slid into the high stool next to him. “Can’t a man have a drink with a friend?”
“Have to find a friend first.”
Tough crowd. “How’s the search for Amber Noble going?”
He tapped the watch on his wrist. “Clock.”
“Give it a rest, Randy. You can talk to me for five minutes or I can pester you all night.”
“I could shoot you.”
“No,” I said with more feeling than I meant. “You couldn’t.”
He shook his head and sipped his beer. “Asshole.”
I fought the urge to knock back the rum and coke. I had too much to do tonight and getting tanked in Angel’s was never a good idea. “Amber Noble?”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell, this won’t take five minutes.”
“Your lucky day.”
“Tell me about it. Investigation is over.”
“Over?”
“Yeah. Pending new developments, we assume an adult woman has left her jerk of a husband.”
“You must have spent some time with Steven.”
Mock shudder. “I don’t see how she lasted that long. Have you heard from her?”
“No.” I slipped the folded sheet of paper from my leather jacket. “Have you got that copy of her cell phone records?”
Randy nodded. “In my briefcase.”
“When did you start carrying a briefcase?”
“When I started having to carry my work home with me.”
“Place is falling apart since I left.”
“Fired, Beason. You were fired.”
“Semantics. Can I see them a second?”
He gave me a look.
“I can break out into song if it helps. You still like country music?”
“Anything to spare me that.” He reached down and pulled the case from his feet and sat it on the bar. He unlocked the case, flipping through a few files and handed me the printout. My eyes ran down the sheet, comparing it to the numbers in my hand. Randy said, “What?”
I showed him the list I had. “Is this what Steven gave you?”
He dug some more in the case and pulled out his list. They were identical. “What?”
“These are supposed to be Amber’s friends.”
“Yeah.”
I laid the sheet of paper alongside the phone records. The phone records Steven had neglected to give me. “She didn’t talk to these people.”
Randy raised an eyebrow.
“I spent the day running them all down,” I said, “and they all have more in common with Steven than they do with Amber.”
“Huh.” His interest was up, but not by much.
“Have you talked to her sister?”
“I didn’t know she had a sister.”
“Yep.”
“Have you been in contact with the sister?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“What did she say?”
I decided to go with the relevant and leave off what might or might not have been said on the couch. “She thinks Amber left Steven.”
“There you go.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that Steven would give us a list of his friends?”
“How many friends do you have?”
“Counting you?”
“No, not counting me. Or Nero or any other criminals.”
“That kinda cuts it down.”
“Uh huh. And Stella? How many of Stella’s friends did you know?”
“Not enough.”
Randy winced, instantly regretting bringing it up. “All I’m saying is, husbands can be…oblivious to their wife’s friends—especially if the marriage is on the rocks.”
“Brother,” I said, “you said a mouthful.” I finished the drink, put the empty glass on the table and stood.
“I’m sorry, Beason. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“No worries. I gotta run.”
“Friday night, you might as well drink here. Best way to stay out of a DUI is to drink with police.”
“I have a date.”
Randy turned in his seat to examine me. “Miracles never cease.”
***
I thought about bad decisions and Providence as I drove through town. The night had the weekend’s energy, more cars out on the road as people went to dinner or to a honky-tonk to blow off steam. I could trace all of my bad decisions to three factors: drink, a hot temper, and thinking with the wrong brain. The hot temper had always been with me—and always would be—but I had made strides as I got older. Sarah had helped with that, broadening my horizons, my world no longer wrapped up in only me and what people did to me. The drink I felt I had pretty much under control, no more blackouts, though I knew it was still on the heavy side. That damn smaller brain still controlled me too much (Exhibit A-Amber, Exhibit B-Madison.) I knew it was time to take my father’s advice.
Providence concerned me. I couldn’t understand why one gangster from Louisiana and another from Rhode Island would be interested in Amber Noble. She was a nurse in a small town. She didn’t use drugs and, as far as I knew, she didn’t gamble or have any use for illegal guns. Providence had told me they only wanted her found, that they had no intention of hurting her. He seemed like an honest man—that whole honor among thieves most thieves don’t posses. He carried it, wore it like the jacket he needed this afternoon. Of course, he could have been lying. I considered myself an honest man and I couldn’t keep track of all the lies I had told. To suspects, insurgents and collaborators alike—even to my superiors. I had to keep that in mind. The only thing I could come up with was that Amber had seen or heard something she wasn’t supposed to see or hear. Where, though? At the hospital? Maybe one of her patients had let something slip to her, something that presented a problem to Big Bird. Was that why she had disappeared so completely? Going so far as to cut off contact with her mother and her sister? If that was the case, then she was still alive or Starling and Providence would never have shown up on my doorstep. All I had to do was find her.
The lot was full and I had to leave the Jeep on the street. I picked my way through the crowded lobby to the teenage girl at the podium. She gave me a harried smile. “How many?”
“I’m meeting someone. Can I poke my head in and see if she is already here?”
“Sure.”
The restaurant was dark, candles at the tables, staff with overloaded trays weaving through the crowd. She was at a table for two along the wall.
“You’re late.”
“Yes, ma’am. I had a work thing.”
“And you’ve been drinking.”
“I have not.”
“Beason, I’ve known you since we were eight years old.” She had been home to change, putting on a black dress, pearls at her throat. I could smell her perfume. Her long brown hair was freshly brushed. She was not smiling. “I could always tell.”
“One drink. I had to talk to a guy in a bar and I had one drink. One drink does not constitute drinking.”
Hannah shrugged.
“Hey, Beason.” The waitress was at my elbow. “Rum and coke?”
“Only coke.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Where’s Erin?”
“Hopefully, she is at home.”
“Tell her to call me.”
“You bet.”
She left. Hannah had that resigned look on her face.
“What?”
“Nothing. How’s that working out? With Erin?”
“Good.”
“How much longer does she have in school?”
“One more year. I’m trying to get her to change majors. Or go for her Master’s.”
“What are you going to do when she graduates?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Hannah tapped the menu on the table. “I’m hungry so you better be ready when your little friend comes back.”
“Erin’s friend.” I didn’t need to look. Some things never change. Like the menu at Auriemma’s. “How’s Ty?”
“Good. Finishing up his last year of elementary school.”
“How are things with the ex?”
“Up and down. Mostly down.”
“Ty with his dad tonight?”
“No. My mom is watching him.”
“You tell her you were having dinner with me?”
“Lord no.”
We laughed and my “little friend” returned with my coke. Hannah went with manicotti and I ordered the chicken alfreido.
“You ever hear from Stella?”
“Nope.”
Hanna shook her head. “Must be hard on you, raising a little girl on your own.”
“I’ve got Erin.”
“For now.”
“Which is what counts.”
“How is Sarah coping with it?”
“It’s the only life she has ever known.”
“I can see that. Ty took it pretty hard when Chris and I split. Maybe it’s better that way.”
“Maybe.”
“She ever asks about her mother?”
“Once in a while. I figure it will get worse as she gets older.”
“Poor thing. When are you bringing her to see me?”
“We have an appointment in two weeks.”
The salads came. I picked out the black olives and placed them in Hannah’s bowl. She giggled like the schoolgirl I had known. Before the really, really bad decision.
“You haven’t changed a lick, you know that? Not since we were in high school.”
“You kidding me?” She cupped her breasts. “I’m a full cup size bigger.”
I laughed, spraying the table with lettuce. I shook my head. “What happened to us?”
“You moved on to hard liquor. And Stella.”
“I should’ve stuck with the liquor.”
“No,” she said, “you shouldn’t have.”
The waitress arrived with our meals, sliding the food on the table. “Be careful,” she said, “these plates are hot.”
Only they weren’t. They never were. The choices of fine dining in Chickasaw Falls were limited. Luckily, though, they still charged big city prices.
“How is Mary working out?”
“She’s okay. What was all that about this morning?”
“She is supposed to be friends with a young lady I’m looking for.”
“Supposed to be?”
“I’m having a hard time seeing it.”
“Who is the young lady?”
“Amber Noble.”
“She related to Steven Noble?”
“Not by blood. She’s his wife.�
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Hannah’s eyes went wide. “Whoa.”
“What?”
Hannah shook her head. “Beauty shop gossip stays in the beauty shop.”
“Since when?”
She sipped her tea. “I shouldn’t tell you.”
“But you will.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Spill it or I’ll call your mom and tell her we had dinner.”
“Talk about low blows.” She scooped a miniature forkful of minestrone. “She was sleeping with him.”
“Mary?”
“Yes.”
“With Steven?”
“Yes.”
I leaned back from the table. “Were they monogamous?”
“The way I hear it,” she said, “Steven Noble doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Does Mary even know Amber?”
“Beats me. She never talked about her—didn’t even mention Steven had a wife.”
“Huh.”
“Wait a minute,” Hannah said in that voice that told me I had stepped in it. “Is that why you asked me to dinner? Mary?”
“It is a free meal.”
Wrong answer.
“Some things never do change.” She pushed the half-eaten plate away from her and stood. “See you in two weeks, Beason.”
“Hannah! Wait!”
Of course, she didn’t and I had to watch those long legs carry her away. Again.
***
“Hello.”
“Where are you?”
“How do you know I’m not at home?”
“Because I’m in your driveway.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“You wish. I thought you could take me out for a proper dinner. You remember romance, right?”
“Too late. I’ve already eaten.”
“Drinks, then.”
“I can’t. I’ve got to get home to my daughter.”