by Nick James
“Everything go all right last night?”
Both men nodded.
“Is she up?”
“Almost,” Miguel said.
“I don’t want to wait around for her this morning. Get her in the shower,” Bobby said to Miguel.
Miguel said something in Spanish to Jesús who nodded, set his coffee down, and left the room.
“He seems to have a better relationship. I think she’ll listen to him,” Miguel said and shrugged. Five minutes later they heard the shower running and Jesús was back in the kitchen sipping coffee. At ten-thirty they were heading to the church with Addison asleep in the front passenger seat. At least she was dressed, although in the same outfit she’d worn the night before, and from what Bobby could tell, no makeup.
Once they arrived at the church, her mother took her by the arm and marched her into the ladies’ room in the church basement. Bobby and his entourage took seats in the rear of the church. Five minutes before the service the organ music began just as Morris Montcreff waddled up the aisle flanked by two thugs on either side scanning the assembled congregation. More than a few heads turned as they passed. Miguel and Jesús made eye contact as the group passed, and Bobby suddenly realized he hadn’t seen Luis either last night, or this morning.
Chapter Forty-Four
The service was well attended considering the previous evening’s wake had shut down forty-five minutes early. Bobby was convinced the city’s movers and shakers were here just to make extra sure Denton was indeed gone. He spotted the partners, Bennett Hinz along with Sawyer and Allan, seated together about halfway up the center aisle on the left hand side. It didn’t appear that their wives were with them.
At exactly the fifty-two-minute mark, Denton’s flag draped coffin was quickly wheeled back down the aisle and out the front door, almost as if the church wanted as little to do with him as possible. The assembled multitude quickly made their exit behind the coffin, climbed into their cars, then hurried off to the St. Paul Hotel for the funeral luncheon. Bobby looked, but couldn’t find a tear anywhere.
“We goin’ back to party?” Addison sounded hopeful and gave a slight nod of encouragement.
“We’ll go to the luncheon first. Then we’ve got to get to the office. Maybe you can catch a ride with your mother,” Bobby said.
“You gotta be kidding me?”
He shook his head no, noticed that she had some makeup on, not much but enough to minimize the dark rings under her eyes. Cori must have applied it. God, he thought, thirty-five and her mother still dressed her.
“Come on, lighten up. What? All pissed off ‘cause you missed out last night?” she said and sort of stepped closer to him.
Miguel and Jesús began to reach for her, but he shook his head and they went back to glancing nervously around the parking lot. “There are some things we have to attend to… business. You’d only be bored.”
“So I have to end up with those giggling up-tight old ladies? Give me a break. Come on. Let’s party.”
“I’ll expect to see you at the funeral luncheon.” He glanced over and saw Cori with her three girlfriends accepting condolences from a small handful of well-wishers. “Your mother’s right over there,” he nodded toward the back end of the hearse, then turned and walked away.
Addison stood there with a shocked look on her face, stamped her foot once or twice, then stormed over to her mother.
The funeral luncheon was held in a downstairs banquet room at the St. Paul Hotel. The bar was open and the size of the crowd reflected that fact. He couldn’t be sure, but Bobby thought there seemed to be a good deal more people at the luncheon than there had been at the church service. One person missing was Morris Montcreff.
Bobby got the expected nods from a number of people he knew, all now more or less categorized under the heading ‘former acquaintances’. None of them made any effort to open, let alone engage in a conversation with him. He found or rather was found by Bennett Hinz a short time later. Sawyer and Allan joined them thirty seconds after that.
“Not hard to miss with your two friends,” Sawyer said, then glanced in a way to show his disapproval of Miguel and Jesús.
Bennett inserted himself, quickly raising his glass of bourbon. “Hey, I think we owe a toast to Bobby, gentlemen. Here’s to Noah, and by extension, Bobby, for hanging onto the Morris Montcreff account,” Bennett said and raised his glass. He had to wait a moment for Sawyer who grudgingly raised his wine glass, making a point of not clicking it off Bobby’s glass of sparkling water.
“I appreciate the support,” Bobby said staring at Sawyer.
Miguel touched Bobby’s arm then indicated a corner next to a far door where Luis was suddenly standing with three other men. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me,” he said then stepped away without waiting for an answer.
Luis smiled at Bobby, then said something in Spanish and the five bodyguards immediately formed a half circle around them, Luis and Bobby stood in the middle with their backs against the wall.
“I don’t think it is safe for you here,” Luis said.
“Not safe? I got the mayor over there and a couple of cops standing outside. What’s wrong?”
“Just some information we have, your friend Morris Montcreff.”
“Friend might be too strong a term, I’m not sure he has any friends. I saw him at the church, but I haven’t seen him here,” Bobby said and scanned across the crowd in the banquet room in search of Montcreff’s pocked-marked face and his potato nose.
“I don’t think you’ll see him,” Luis said, then as an afterthought added, “He’s maybe too smart for that. But you should go, now.” He nodded, and one of the thugs gently took his glass of sparkling water. Miguel, Jesús and another man led him upstairs to the lobby. Jesús hurried out the door to fetch the car while Bobby waited in a far corner with Miguel and the other guy standing in front of him.
Chapter Forty-Five
They hustled Bobby into the SUV, leaving the third man glancing around the front of the St. Paul Hotel as they drove off. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Home?” Miguel asked, suggesting where else would they go?
“If there really is a problem, wouldn’t they expect us to go there? Maybe someone could be waiting in the parking area or the hallway.”
Miguel and Jesús glanced at one another.
“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s go to my office. We’re in the back corner. If there’s a problem you can see it coming. We can order food. I think it would be the last place anyone would look because of the funeral today,” he added.
They seemed to think about this for a moment, then Miguel nodded and Jesús took the next left and headed toward the office.
* * *
An hour later Bobby’s office reeked of sausage pizza. Jesús was dozing on the couch. Miguel had pulled a chair up to the window next to the office door and was keeping an eye on the hallway leading from the lobby. Bobby dialed the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Emily, Bobby.” At the sound of her name, Miguel seemed to move uncomfortably in his chair.
“I thought that funeral was today? You can’t be out of there already.”
“Yeah, busy day. Had a client thing I had to get back to.”
“Wow, a client thing. Sounds complicated. Anyone even bother to show up at the funeral?”
“Oh, yeah. Quite the crowd, although it might have been a lot of people making sure he was really dead.”
“That prick.”
“Wondering if you’d have time for dinner this evening?” Bobby asked hoping to get away from any conversation regarding Noah Denton.
“I think I could be talked into breaking whatever engagement I had planned in favor of a night with you.”
“You want to come over around seven-thirty?”
“I’d love to. What can I bring?”
“Just yourself and a decent appetite. You hungry for anything special?”
“You talking food or extracu
rricular activities?”
“I like the way you’re thinking, hold that thought. I’ll see you around seven-thirty, tonight.”
* * *
The security buzzer rang promptly at ten minutes before eight that evening.
“Yes?” Bobby answered.
“Me,” Emily replied and he buzzed her in.
Jesús sat in one corner of the couch and remained involved in his laptop. Miguel shifted uneasily in the other corner. Emily stepped off the elevator a minute later, carrying a brown paper bag. As Bobby watched through the peephole he could hear bottles clinking. She halted a few feet from the door, shook her hair back and forth, smoothed her blouse, took two steps forward and knocked on the door. Bobby waited a moment before he opened the door.
“Hey, right on time,” he said ignoring the fact she was twenty minutes late. Not that he cared. The meals he’d picked up in the restaurant had been warming in the oven.
“Thanks for having me,” she said, then sort of hurried down the hall toward the kitchen without acknowledging Miguel or Jesús. She set the bag on the kitchen counter. Didn’t know what you were serving, suppose I should have called. Anyway, I got a red and a white so we’re covered.”
“Let me pour you a glass,” Bobby said twisting off the cap on the wine bottle and filling her glass. I made some lasagna, and…”
“You made it?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “But having said that, I’ve always thought any food with homemade sauce tastes better on the second day. You know, pasta, chili, you name it.”
“You made this lasagna?”
“Yeah, why does that seem so surprising? Guys can cook.”
“I have to say, I’m more than a little impressed.”
He looked her in the eye and said, “Then you should stick with me.”
Emily laughed nervously and quickly indicated the empty glasses on the table.
He opened the oven and pulled out the pan. He’d taken the lasagna out of the white Styrofoam trays from the restaurant, placed it in a small pan so it looked like he’d baked it and then kept it warm. He only hoped he hadn’t dried it out.
They had a leisurely dinner, talked about everything and nothing. Bobby got the distinct impression Emily was working hard to stay away from anything coming close to Noah Denton’s funeral. So he brought it up.
“Have you thought anymore about the lawsuit against the firm and Noah Denton? Well, I guess the firm and his estate, now.”
“Is that what this dinner is all about?”
“No, just wondering. I think I’ve already told you my opinion.”
“Tell me again.” She smiled, but there seemed to be an edge to her tone and she washed it down with a swallow of wine.
“I don’t care if you go forward with the lawsuit. I do think that it was a convenient club that looked attractive to Nate Anderson and the attorneys who left the firm. Nate took off somewhere and as far as I know is unreachable. The other guy, Larson, who was supposed to handle the case is now back at the firm so he’s out of the running. You could probably settle out of court and get something, but if you’re thinking a million-dollar settlement sort of thing, I doubt that will happen. But, I want to be clear, I don’t have a stake in this. I met your sister, Elizabeth maybe once or twice. I did not know her. I believe she was treated unfairly. I, along with a lot of other people, found Noah Denton to be a cantankerous old asshole, so do what you think is best.”
“Even if it’s your firm that’s sued and ends up paying?”
“Yeah, I’m just an employee there. It’s my firm only from the standpoint of me receiving a paycheck from them. Nothing else.”
“You’re sure?”
“Very. I don’t have any emotional connection.”
She nodded, more to herself than to him. Then she drained her wine glass, grabbed his hand and half whispered, “I’m ready for bed.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Bobby heard the moaning just before four in the morning. He stared into the dark and let his eyes adjust for a moment. He could make out the dresser, the bedside table, and the trim around the bedroom door. His first thought was Emily and Miguel again, but he rolled over and Emily was still next to him, sound asleep.
He lay in bed for a few moments listening, the rhythmic moaning seemed to leave no question as to what particular activity was taking place. He pulled on his boxers and stepped into the hallway, walked down to the guest room, and put his ear to the door. The moan started up again, passionate, a female voice, “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” but it was coming from the living room, definitely not the guest room.
He tiptoed down the hall to the living room and peeked around the corner. A pair of male legs with dark jeans pulled down around the ankles extended past the end of the couch. A second pair of rather shapely legs were wrapped tightly around the waist. A pair of hands feverishly scratched and flayed at the back in time to the moaning. The moans gradually ratcheted up with the increase of activity. What looked an awful lot like lines of cocaine and a credit card were arranged on top of the coffee table.
“Oh God, oh God, oh…”
“Miguel?” Bobby growled and the figure gave four or five more thrusts then suddenly stopped.
“What? No, come on, come on, don’t stop, don’t,” a female voice gasped.
Miguel ignored her pleas, quickly stood, and pulled up his jeans. He was still breathing heavily. He didn’t look at Bobby, but buttoned the jeans, then zipped up his fly.
“Get her out of here,” Bobby said just as Addison’s head popped up. She sat back with her arms behind her, naked and seemingly oblivious to his surprised stare.
“You have the worst fucking timing. God!”
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you… Just how in the hell did she get in here?”
“Let’s just say I had something to offer. You gonna just stand there and watch or you gonna join in the fun. Come on get down here and.…”
“Get her out of here, now.”
“What? You’re throwing me out? Why? What’s the problem? Did you want to get in first? Come on, I’ll be the best…”
“Get her out of here, Miguel. Now!”
Miguel nodded and pulled her up by the wrist.
“God, okay, okay, let me at least get dressed,” she said, then kicked her thong off from around her ankle. She picked up her outfit from the floor, the same clothes she’d worn at the wake and her father’s funeral and slowly stepped into it. She left her bra on the floor, then sat down on the couch and slipped a heel on, taking her time.
“How the hell did she get in here?” Bobby asked, then he and Miguel turned toward the snorting noise as Addison quickly inhaled three long lines of cocaine off the top of the coffee table.
“Whoa, fuck me,” she rasped as she sat back on her heels and rubbed her nose.
Bobby glared at Miguel. “Get her out…”
Miguel grabbed a hand around her upper arm and yanked her off the couch. “Hey, hey, hey…” she said as he started to drag her toward the door. “God, give me a second to get my purse, will you? Jesus, calm the fuck down.” She wrestled her arm from his grip and picked her purse up off the floor. She took the credit card off the coffee table and tossed it in, then clicked the purse shut and looked at Bobby. “Fuck you.”
Miguel grabbed her by the arm and marched her to the front door. He let go of her arm and snapped the lock open.
“No, wait. Can’t we talk about this?” She looked from Miguel to Bobby. “I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want. I mean it, anything, anything at all,” she said then stepped back and bumped against the small table next to the door. She reached down and began to raise the hem of her skirt. “You like…”
“Get her out of here,” Bobby said.
Miguel grabbed her by the arm, half threw her into the hall, and closed the door behind her. The lock snapped shut and he chained the door.
Addison pounded on the door a couple of times. Screamed, “Let me in, damn it! Let me in!
Okay, fine, suit yourself. Know what? You’ll never get anymore from me. You hear? You’re so cut off. Hey, you were a lousy ride, anyway. I’ll show you, you prick. You’ll be sorry, just wait and see. You’re gonna be so damn sorry,” she half laughed.
Just as Bobby moved toward the door ready to hit her right between the eyes, it suddenly grew quiet. He signaled Miguel to step back with a wave of his hand then he looked out of the peephole. Addison was down the hall, weaving back and forth in front of the elevator. He heard the elevator doors open as she looked back down the hall toward his unit and gave him the finger. Then she stepped onto the elevator and disappeared from sight. They stood in the dark of the room for a couple of minutes, no one speaking. Bobby let the tension build.
Finally, Miguel spoke, almost in a whisper. “I’m very sorry, I didn’t think that…”
“Stop right there, you didn’t think. Just stop.”
Miguel hung his head for a few seconds before he looked up. “Are you going to tell Luis?”
Bobby waited a long moment, watched the fear slowly creep over Miguel. “He’ll kill you,” he said and let that thought sink in.
Miguel nodded and began to shake, maybe crying, although it was too dark to really tell.
“Don’t you ever cross me like that again. If you do, Luis will not be a problem, because I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”
“Thank you,” Miguel said quietly and stared at the floor.
“How did she…” Bobby’s words were cut short by a rumble and then the distant chorus of what sounded like car alarms going off. He felt the vibration run through the floor and they both automatically made their way to the front window and looked out on the quiet street. Except for street lights and the light illuminating the restaurant across the street there was nothing to see. The car alarms continued, sounding distant and yet at the same time, not.
Chapter Forty-Seven