by Ingrid Thoft
“Wait. Let me give you mine. In case you’re in the neighborhood. We could grab lunch.” He pulled a card out of his wallet and smiled shyly. The poor guy thought romance was an actual possibility. Some people really do see the glass half-full.
“Give me a call if something changes,” he said as he handed Fina the card.
“You, too.” They shook hands, and Fina pushed the glass door open and walked to her car.
Inside, with the air on high and her heels slipped off, Fina rested her forehead against the steering wheel. A few minutes of contemplation netted no insights or mental relief, so she put the car in gear and got back on the road.
Fina drove home, changed, and turned on the TV to see Pitney having her big moment. She didn’t make the actual announcement, but stood behind the DA with an appropriately solemn look on her face. Rand was identified as a “person of interest,” which everyone knew was just another name for suspect. Fina looked at the assembled group; not surprisingly, Pitney was surrounded by men. Under different circumstances, Fina and Pitney might have been friendly acquaintances. Both women were smart and accomplished, always competing with the big boys, but Fina’s family and Pitney’s profession made that impossible. They were like the Capulets and the Montagues. Or maybe that was Fina and Cristian.
Fina wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water, and when she got back, the news had been replaced by a talk show, the host promising exciting news about peptides in the coming hour. Whoopee.
Fina left a message for Milloy and then punched in Cristian’s number.
“How about lunch? I’m buying,” Fina told him.
“No time.”
“Cristian, I have to talk to you.”
“Don’t whine. It’s unattractive.”
“So sorry. Forgive my lapse in decorum.”
“You’re forgiven. I still don’t have time for lunch.”
“Are you punishing me?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Withholding information?”
“Are you withholding information?”
“Call me when your schedule opens up,” Fina said, and clicked off the phone.
Fina walked into Carl’s office, which was empty, and sat down on his couch. His young blond assistant stalked in after her.
“You know, you can’t just walk in here,” she said, glaring at Fina.
“The door was open. I assumed that meant he was available.”
“You have to check with me first.”
Fina put her feet up on the coffee table and settled into the leather cushions. “Shari, I appreciate that you need to mark your territory and all that, but don’t bother. With me, it’s a waste of time.”
The two women stared at each other.
“Fine,” the assistant huffed, and left the room.
Fina leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She dozed off.
“Wake up,” Carl commanded. He was easing into his chair behind the desk and glancing at the screen of his cell phone. “I’m not paying you to nap.”
“You’re not paying me to sleep, either, which is why I was up all hours last night rescuing your drunken granddaughter from a nightclub.”
Carl stared at her. He drummed his fingers on his desktop. “You know, you think your grandkids are going to be different from your kids.”
“Why would you think that? They’re being raised by your kids.” Fina pulled a section of her hair forward and examined the ends. “We’re not that bad.”
Carl considered that for a moment. Just as quickly, the moment of reflection passed. “Your progress report?”
Fina ticked things off on her fingers. “I’ve made contact with the guy who ran me off the road. I’m following up on the lead that Mark Lamont gave me. I’m investigating Rand’s extracurricular activities. I can’t imagine the escort service wants to go public any more than he does.” Fina looked at her father. “I don’t know who killed Melanie yet, but I’m making progress.”
“What do you need?”
“More bodies. Frank did the ID on the guy who ran me off the road, but I don’t want him sitting around on surveillance in case I need him for something else, so I want to pull in Dennis Kozlowski. I need to maintain surveillance. I’m sure this guy will meet up with his employer in the near future.”
“Which will tell you what?”
“Who it is that doesn’t want me digging around, which will lead me to who killed Melanie.”
“Fine, but wrap this up.”
Fina rolled her eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“I’m not sitting around twiddling my thumbs, Dad.”
“Maybe not, but you haven’t figured it out, either.”
“So until I’ve succeeded, I’ve failed?”
Carl shrugged slightly.
“Right.” Fina got up and went to the door. “Gotta go. I have a drinking date with a construction crew.”
But Carl had already dismissed her and was dialing his phone. Carl’s mind worked like whale baleen: If it wasn’t relevant, it was flushed right out.
“Do you have some free time?” Fina asked Matthew as she entered his office.
“No, never.”
“Okay, I need to talk some stuff over, and you seem like a good person for the job.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or the booby prize.”
“Take it how you will. Can we order some lunch?”
Matthew depressed an intercom button and summoned his secretary. They weren’t called secretaries anymore, but that’s what they were. The assistants at Ludlow and Associates were mostly young and pretty and did a whole range of tasks that related to their bosses’ personal lives. Gifts for the wife, scheduling parent/teacher conferences, dry cleaning pickup. They were extremely well trained—for the 1960s.
Cynthia brought in a binder stocked with takeout menus, and Fina and Matthew made selections from the local sushi bar. Then she fetched drinks from the minibar and promised their lunch in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
“Where do you find these women?” Fina asked. “A time capsule?”
“She’s great. I’m never letting her leave.” They sat down on the couch. “You have that look,” Matthew said.
“What look?”
“The annoyed, exasperated look that is always generated by a conversation with Dad.”
“I can’t help it,” Fina admitted. “It’s like an allergic reaction. I tell myself not to react, but my nervous system always overrides my brain.”
Matthew looked at her sympathetically. They both knew there was no cure for that affliction.
“But that isn’t what you wanted to talk about,” he ventured. “What’s up?”
“Who do you think killed Melanie?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because I know you didn’t kill her, and I think you can be objective.”
Matthew puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. “Did you ask Scotty?”
“I can’t ask Scotty. He’s a softie.”
Matthew gave her a questioning look.
“Maybe not in here,” Fina said, gesturing to the office, “but he still believes that people are basically decent, and he actually spent a little time outside of the family bubble, so he should know.” After law school, Scotty went to work at a large firm in the city with no ties to Ludlow and Associates. He wanted to see what the real world was like, but it didn’t take long for him to decide that independence was overrated. Pulling all-nighters on boring cases for a shot at the partner track was exhausting and degrading, so he’d slipped back into the fold where he was greeted with a corner office, his pick of cases, and guaranteed advancement. And even though Carl was often difficult, Scotty loved working with his brothers. They challenged and protected one another in equal measure.<
br />
“Unlike us.”
“Unlike us. We believe that people are thoughtless idiots.”
Matthew leaned back and laced his hands together behind his head. “I can’t imagine that Melanie has any enemies. She was a nice, friendly person. And she didn’t really do much, anyway; where would she have made an enemy? On the breast cancer research walk?”
“Right . . . however . . .”
“However, Rand has lots of enemies,” Matthew finished her thought.
“But then why not just hurt Rand?”
“Because hurting Melanie would be worse?”
“Would it? Their relationship never seemed like wedded bliss, even to outsiders, and Rand doesn’t emit that warm and fuzzy family vibe.”
“True, and if he did give off that vibe, why not go straight for the jugular and go after Haley? Kids are generally their parents’ Achilles’ heel.”
“Right.” Fina thought for a moment. “But let’s pretend someone did go after Melanie. Rand does piss off a lot of people. What about a client or someone he crushed in court?”
“It’s possible, but it seems pretty extreme. Usually people just key our cars or throw eggs at us on the courthouse steps.”
There was a tap on the door, and Cynthia came in with a lacquered bento box in each hand. She gently set them down on the coffee table and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Fina examined the different compartments of the box. There was edamame, a few pieces of sushi, some teriyaki chicken, vegetable tempura, and blanched spinach with sesame sauce.
“This looks so healthy,” she commented.
“I know. Don’t let it scare you, though,” Matthew said as he slipped a pair of lacquered chopsticks from a little silk bag and pinched a piece of chicken.
“I need to know what Melanie was so upset about the afternoon she disappeared,” she said.
“Have you asked Rand?”
“Yes. He’s not interested in sharing. But I’m going to ask him again.”
“It may not have anything to do with Melanie’s death.”
“I hope not. Is he around?”
“He should be in his office.”
As they ate, Matthew told Fina about his cases, cases she’d probably be working on if not for Melanie’s disappearance and death. It had been two weeks since Melanie had gone missing, but it felt like forever. It was similar to having a bad flu: You feel like shit and can’t imagine there will come a time when you won’t. What she wouldn’t give for a run-of-the-mill med mal case or a wrongful death suit.
“Why don’t you just pick it up and lick it?” Matthew asked as Fina ran her finger around the teriyaki chicken compartment of her bento box.
“’Cause that would be gross.”
“Right.”
Girl Friday poked her head in the office and reminded Matthew that he had an appointment in five minutes. She cleared away the boxes and left the room.
“She’s nicer than Dad’s girl.”
“Of course she is. She works for me,” Matthew said, and stepped into his private bathroom to wash his hands.
“I’m going to find Rand, and then I’m going drinking with a construction crew,” Fina said, pausing at the office door.
“All right. See ya.”
Jesus.
Did nobody give a shit?
“Hey,” Fina said as she stood in the doorway of Rand’s office. He was sitting in his chair, not slumped exactly, but there was a distinct lack of vigor in his posture.
“Hey.”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” He beckoned her into the room. “Thanks for last night, for helping with Haley.”
“Of course. Is she okay?”
Rand shrugged and dropped his hands into his lap. “She’s okay.”
“We’ll all help her,” Fina said, and took a seat in the chair facing his desk. “Whatever she needs.”
He exhaled loudly and pressed his palms onto his leather desk blotter. “She’ll be okay. She’s a tough kid.”
Fina squirmed in the leather chair and looked at Rand. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I need to know what you and Melanie fought about the day she disappeared.”
“I already told you. It was Haley and math or some other equally unremarkable topic.”
“I know you think it was unremarkable, but it may not be. Let me be the judge.”
Rand stood up and walked to the window behind his desk. He gazed out the glass, the sun beaming down on the rooftops below. “What does it matter? She’s gone.”
Fina took a deep breath. “I need to know so I can help you.”
“I don’t need help as much as everyone seems to think,” he said with a trace of annoyance.
Fina gripped the arms of the chair. “Fine. Who hates you enough to kill Melanie?”
Rand turned and stared at her. “What?”
“Who wants to hurt you so much they would kill your wife? Actually, I bet a fair number of people would like to see you suffer. Who has the balls to actually do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
“For Christ’s sake.”
Fina threw her hands up in exasperation, got up, and walked to the door.
“I need to see your case files.”
“Those are privileged.”
“Then you or one of your . . . comrades needs to go through them and give me some names. I need to know who’d want to wreck your life by killing Melanie.”
“You think whoever killed Melanie was trying to get to me?”
“I have no fucking idea, Rand, but unlike you, I’m trying to figure out a solution, not throw a goddamn pity party.”
She stomped out.
Jordy’s was dark and smelled like smoke even though smoking had been banned in Boston bars years ago. Fina walked in, and the half dozen patrons looked at her before returning to their own business. There was a small cluster of drinkers in a booth toward the back and two men at the bar. One of the guys was old, with gray stubble and flabby jowls. The other was young, with greasy hair and pitted skin. Apparently, the beautiful people hadn’t yet arrived.
Fina climbed onto a stool and ordered a beer in a bottle. She sipped it and watched the TV hanging in the corner. It was tuned to a local cable channel where two hulking professional athletes were debating the off-season exercise regimens of various Patriots players.
“That guy sucks, man,” offered the younger guy at the bar, referring to one of the players in question. “He’s such a pussy. I could play better than him.”
Fina, the old guy, and the bartender all swiveled their heads to assess the validity of the claim.
“Is that right, Benny?” The bartender chuckled and hitched his foot up on a case of vodka sitting on the floor. “I don’t know.” He squeezed his eyes as if making mental calculations. “I think you’re a little small.”
The old man worked his jaw as if he were chewing something. When he spoke, Fina realized he’d been warming up the muscles that made speech possible. “They wouldn’t take you in Pop Warner, Benny. You’re small, and you’re ugly!”
Fina snorted and sucked some beer into her nasal cavity.
“What are you laughing at?” Benny asked with a sneer.
“That was funny. Come on, you have to admit it was funny.”
“What are you even doing here?” Benny asked.
“Waiting for some friends,” Fina said, and sipped her beer.
“Everyone’s welcome here, Benny,” the bartender said, “especially the good-looking ones.” He winked at Fina and uncapped a second beer, which he placed in front of her. “This one’s on Benny.”
“Thanks, Benny,” Fina said, raising her beer in his direction. He scowled, but retur
ned his attention to the TV screen.
Fina was nearing the end of the second beer and her patience when the door swung open and a crowd of orange-shirted, hard hat–toting men filed into the dark space. They crowded around the bar, and within seconds, Billy appeared at her elbow, a wide grin on his face.
“Josefina, right?” Billy asked as he leaned on the bar. He was grubby, but still handsome. He smelled like dirt and sweat, a surprisingly appealing combination.
“I hope your offer was genuine, ’cause here I am,” Fina said.
Billy insisted on buying her another beer, which she nursed. She was working, after all, and needed to stay, if not sharp, than at least somewhat alert. He introduced her to the other guys, and Fina was treated to one story after another, most of which featured Billy as the protagonist. It was actually sweet to watch the other guys act as his wingmen and make Billy look good. Maybe they wouldn’t get laid tonight, but somebody would if they had any say.
After the construction crew was appropriately lubricated by booze and flirting, but wasn’t too far in the bag, Fina pulled out the picture of Melanie and passed it around. No one remembered seeing Melanie around the work site, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been there. It was hard to keep track with all the pretty women in the neighborhood, and most recently, the guys had been working inside the building. Fina showed them a picture of Melanie’s sunglasses; one of the plumbers thought they looked familiar, but he couldn’t be sure.
Fina bought a round of drinks for the guys—courtesy of Carl, of course—and waited an appropriate interval before slipping off her stool and heading for the door. Billy followed her outside, and she leaned against the brick exterior of the building.
“How about we go out for a real date?” he said. “No guys, no photos, someplace nice?”
Fina looked at him. “Sounds good. Things are pretty hectic right now, but I’ll give you a call in a couple of weeks.” She pulled out her phone and waited for his number.
“Right,” Billy said, and stared down the street. “Just forget it.” He turned and started to walk back to the door. Fina grabbed hold of his elbow and turned him toward her. She leaned in and gave him a long kiss.
