The Second Secret

by Alan Lee

  “Good help is hard to find, eh August? Damn, you knocked the shit out of him. Never thought I’d see that.”

  “I’d keep track of Wayne. If he doesn’t vacate town then you should hire a guy to walk around with you for a while. Someone like Fat Susie to discourage all evildoers. Also, one final professional advisement — if you want good help, promote Scott to Wayne’s abandoned position. Scott from Happy Fields. He’s loyal to you and hard working and he deserves it.”

  “Is that so? Loyal to me? Consider it done.”

  “Good.”

  “I still owe you money,” Calvin said. “I’m good for it.”

  “I know.”

  “You did good, August.”

  “I know this. But our working relationship is over. I won’t work for the mob again,” I said.

  “The mob? Don’t be so dramatic. I’m a businessman, same as you, same as Marcus. Besides, who pays as much as us? Nobody, that’s who.”

  “I’m getting some ice from Ronnie’s office. Goodbye Summers,” I said.

  “Come on now. Let’s end on friendly terms. This is a handshake world we live in.”

  “No. My hand hurts.”

  “Ahh, who needs you. I’m going to golf,” he said.

  “Wear a glove. Gotta keep those hands clean.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I woke on Ronnie’s couch. The bag of ice had melted and lay on the floor. An angel perched on the side of the couch and she kissed me on the mouth. Not nearly long enough.

  “Hello Mackenzie,” she said.

  “Hello Ronnie.”

  Her lips curved in a smile and she pushed a strand of hair off my forehead. “You’ve destroyed my desk.”

  “Natasha’s desk. Her name was on it.”

  “You’ve also hurt your face. There is a giant swollen bruise. Shall I make it better?”

  “If you insist.”

  She kissed me again. Our lips touched and she took a deep breath and held it. We pressed into each other. I counted heartbeats. I allowed myself ten before pulling away.

  She said, “I wish you were always on this couch when I arrived.”

  “You knew,” I said. “You knew Natasha was your father’s informant.”

  “I knew nothing for certain.”

  “You suspected.”

  “An indistinct suspicion,” she said. “In other words, I’m not surprised to learn the truth. Is she safe?”

  “She is. She stole your father’s cash and collected her sister, and hopefully they’re sitting on a beach and enjoying a new freedom by now.”

  She smiled and nodded, a satisfied expression. “Perfect. I hope so too. How much cash?”

  “I’m not sure. All of it?”

  “Wow. He’ll be displeased.”

  “Good,” I said. “Let me guess. You couldn’t bring yourself to directly betray your father. If you knew for certain about Natasha then you’d face choices you couldn’t stand. Right?”

  “Yes Mackenzie.”

  “So you hired me because you were worried she’d get caught. You knew I’d find the informant and if it was Natasha then I’d do the right thing.”

  “Yes Mackenzie.”

  “What a smart girl you are.”

  “Not that smart,” she said. “But I trusted the right man.”

  “I am the right man.”

  She unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt and laid her hand flat on my chest. “Yes. You are.”

  “I told him I wouldn’t work for him again. It’s too complicated.”

  “Yes. It’s very complicated. Did he hit you?”

  “No. That’s insulting. Wayne hit me,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Wayne was stealing from him. I conveyed this information, along along with the Natasha revelation. Wayne didn’t appreciate being exposed.”

  “What happened to Wayne?” she asked.

  “He looks much worse than me. I disciplined him and let him leave. I expect he’ll head further south soon. Your father is well connected.”

  “You disciplined him.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s kind of sexy.”

  “Doesn’t feel sexy,” I said. “Feels like I broke that hardwood desk with my back.”

  “Take off your shirt. I’ll give you a massage. And while you’re at it you can lose the pants.”

  “You are a vixen.”

  “Does that mean no?” she asked.

  “Not while you’re engaged.”

  “I wish you’d stop bringing that up. It makes me sad.”

  “I know the feeling.” I took her hand and kissed it.

  “Look how big you are. This isn’t a small couch. But I’m not convinced it’s big enough for both of us to…wrestle on.”

  If I stayed there much longer my defenses would come crashing down and our complex relationship would go absolutely nuclear. I stood and picked up the ice bag and threw it away.

  “You need a new desk,” I said.

  “And a new receptionist to sit behind it. Can I hire you?”

  “You strike me as the kind of boss who would molest me.”

  “Daily. But you’d enjoy it,” she said.

  “I would. You wouldn’t even need to pay me a salary.”

  “If you won’t be my receptionist then I’ll find more cases which require a handsome private detective.”

  We stayed still, watching each other.

  “I need to go,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “I’m going.”

  Neither of us moved. It felt like invisible cords had wrapped around us, binding me to her. I couldn’t decide whether to hold my breath or gasp for air.

  She smiled. That big curvy smile which shook my foundations.

  “Why the smile?” I asked.

  “Because. You love me.”

  “That’s a big word to throw around. Are you sure?”

  “I have an indistinct suspicion. But my instincts are often correct,” she said. “You love me. And it’s the only good thing in my life.”

  “You’re a hot mess.”

  “I know this.”

  “Goodbye Ronnie,” I said.

  “Goodbye Mackenzie. I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I sat in my office, scanning potential assignments via email. As usual, children were missing. Spouses were cheating. Statements required taking. Superman was needed.

  And I, Clark Kent.

  A woman walked into my office. She was so short and slight that she hadn’t triggered the groaning stairs. I stood and said, “Hello, Mrs. Hunt.”

  “Mr. August.” Unless my eyes deceived me, she was wearing the same dress as that day in the Dairy Queen parking lot. Her hands were clasped together in front. Strong hands, accustomed to hard work. “I come to Roanoke to speak with Mr. Summers’s accountant, Tom Bradshaw. I meet with the man once a quarter.”

  “Nice guy. Very loyal. Got his ducks in a row. Please have a seat.”

  “No, I won’t. I will not stay. I only came to apologize. Seems I had you wrong,” she said.

  “No one ever apologizes to me. Can I record this?”

  “Don’t be an ass, Mr. August.”

  “Tall order. Ass is my modus operandi,” I said.

  “Alicia is gone.”

  “Her sister Natasha took her. They’ve got some money and they are starting a new life.”

  She nodded curtly. “Thank you,” she said. “Those girls are precious to me.”

  “You’re welcome. But I did it for me.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “What am I, if I’m not helping a girl get out of prostitution? If I’m not helping Natasha escape a violent man? I’d be a coward. A simple functionary. Couldn’t live with myself,” I said. “I did it to define what I am and what I am not.”

  “I had been looking at you wrong, Mr. August.”

  “Maybe you weren’t. I was making a mess. But we got lucky and it turned out. The chip
s fell into a pattern which benefitted us,” I said.

  “I won’t pretend to know what that means and I don’t care to. I owed you an apology and there it is. I’ll be off.”

  “Please give my regards to your husband. He’s a man I admire.”

  “I believe the feeling will be mutual,” she said, pausing at the door, “once I tell him about the girls.”

  “Aw shucks.”

  “The foolish old man is talking about taking our savings and moving to the beach. Closer to the children.”

  “You must. A no-brainer,” I said.

  “Well, truth be told, I’d be glad to be rid of that Calvin Summers.”

  “Yes, a sentiment we share.”

  “You won’t keep working for him?” she asked.

  “Doubtful. But it’s complicated. I’m twitterpated with his daughter.”

  She frowned, like she wished she’d departed thirty seconds ago. “Well. Nothing good will come from that, I’m sure. That girl’s got secrets.”

  She left.

  “I know this,” I told myself. With a fair amount of trepidation. “But she’s worth it.”

  The End

  Excerpt from the next Mackenzie August book

  I had the Patrick Henry football team sprinting repetitively across the field. Over and over. But they couldn’t run forward; they had to move laterally. Their hip abductors would scream tomorrow but it’d make them faster. The best defensive players moved laterally.

  My phone buzzed. Texts from Kristin Payne.

  >> hey

  >> thinking about u

  >> if I haven’t scared u away then let’s go out

  >> im free when u are

  >> lol

  I put the phone back into my pocket. I’d reply soon. Wasn’t sure what I’d type, though. I couldn’t say no to dates while I waited for the girl of my dreams to call off her engagement when she’d given no indication that she would.

  And also, adults should never type “lol.”

  Ronnie never typed “lol.”

  The players quit running and stood in groups, sucking wind and spitting into the grass. Their head coach called for a huddle and they moved with bovine slowness in his direction.

  Marcus Morgan materialized beside me. Wearing a black turtleneck and slacks. Fat Susie stood near the car.

  “Mackenzie,” he said.

  “Marcus. You may as well live here.”

  “Got a job for you,” he said simply.

  “No. Not even if it’s hunting down Wayne Cross.”

  “We find Wayne, he’s dead. But this is something else. Something you might enjoy. Also, thought you’d like to know there’s poker tonight. A meeting of the minds over a game.”

  “I’m out,” I said.

  “You’ve earned a permanent seat. Something which shouldn’t be treated lightly.”

  “A permanent seat.”

  He nodded.

  “With the underworld,” I said.

  “Call it what you like. You don’t appreciate the invitation?”

  “I appreciate the demonstration of respect, but I’m not the guy for your crew.”

  “Come hear the job. It concerns Manny the marshal.”