by Sandra Brown
into one of the pockets of her jacket."Safe place? Nothing's going to
happen to me."
"Don't be stupid. Girls like you have a short life span." He tapped the
pocket where she'd placed the slip of paper."Don't forget."
Burke leaned his head against the headrest of his new car. Well, hardly
new, just different from the Toyota. Although it was difficult, he
resisted closing his eyes. If he did, exhaustion might claim him and he
would fall asleep and miss something.
He hoped that after all the trouble he'd gone to placing it, the damn
bug would work.
Duvall probably had the house swept daily for listening devices, and,
while he wouldn't have known it was Burke Basile who'd placed the tiny
wireless microphone beneath his nightstand, the two visiting priests
would be among the suspects.
Since state-of-the-art equipment was costly, and Burke's budget wouldn't
stretch that far, he'd called in a favor from a cop who worked the
evidence room. A few years back, his son had got mixed up with a bad
crowd. One of Basile's squads had busted him for possession. With the
cop's blessing, Basile had come down on the kid pretty hard, scared him
into a more receptive frame of mind, and turned him around. The family
still felt indebted.
The dime-store-caliber rig had been seized in a raid, nobody would miss
it, so the cop had heisted it. He and Basile had tried it out. It
worked, but the quality wasn't great.
Thus far tonight, he hadn't had an opportunity to test it. After an hour
and a half of surveillance, the master bedroom had remained dark.
He checked his wristwatch. Twelve minutes past eleven. How long could he
wait? He was exhausted. Since hearing from Mrs. Duvall earlier today,
he'd been busy.
"Father Kevin" had no trouble cashing Duvall's check from the bank he'd
written it on. The money had enabled him to pay an individual cash for
an inexpensive van advertised in the classified ads. He'd driven the van
straight to a cut-rate paint and body shop, where he asked for a rush
job. It would be ready by tomorrow afternoon. He then returned to his
room and cut out a stencil of cardboard, which he would use to apply the
Jenny's House logo to the doors of the freshly painted van.
The limousine glided past. By the time Burke realized that the
approaching car belonged to the Duvalls, he was already looking at its
taillights. He held his breath and didn't release it until the limo
disappeared through the iron picket security gate at the rear of the
property. A short time later lights came on in the master bedroom.
He slipped on the headset and immediately heard voices.
" ... in the opera ... heard her ... and ... stunk." That from Pinkie.
Burke readjusted the headset in time to hear Mrs. Duvall say, ".
proud of her for making it past the first audition. She's their only
daughter."
"Well I was bored stiff. It's hot in here. Turn down the thermostat."
For several minutes Burke heard nothing more and envisioned them in
their respective dressing rooms, preparing for bed. The next words were
from Mrs. Duvall: "I'll write them a thank-you note tomorrow."
"Whatever. Take that damn thing off."
The light went out. Coming through the earphones were the sounds of
rustling bed linens, of bodies readjusting, of Pinkie moving close to
his naked wife and caressing the skin dusted with talcum powder from a
silver-capped jar.
Burke closed his eyes.
"All the men there tonight were drooling over my beautiful wife."
"Thank you."
Burke told himself not to listen anymore. They weren't going to talk
about Duvall's sideline business. He wouldn't learn anything by
continuing to eavesdrop on what was obviously a private conversation.
But he listened anyway.
"I caught old man Salley looking at your tits. I glared at him. He
blushed up to the roots of his toupee," Duvall chuckled."By dessert, he
and every other man around the dinner table was using his napkin to hide
a hard-on."
"Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true."
"I don't believe that."
"Believe it, Remy. When a man looks at you, all he can think about is
pussy." More rustling, the readjustment of limbs."See what I mean?"
She murmured something so softly the microphone failed to pick it up.
Whatever she said pleased Duvall because he chuckled with
selfcongratulationso "You know what to do with it, sweetheart."
A moment later, a satisfied grunt from Duvall.
Burke bowed his head and rubbed his eye sockets hard.
After what seemed like an eternity to Burke, Duvall groaned, "Jesus,
baby, that's making me crazy. Come here." Then, "What's the matter with
you? How come you're not wet?"
"Let me up, and I'll get something."
"Never mind. Pull your knees ... yeah, like that. Like Pinkie taught
you."
Burke threw his head back against the headrest. He continued to listen.
He listened to Duvall's chant of vulgarities, to his grunts and groans.
He listened through it all, until Duvall climaxed, swearing in loud
gasps.
Then there was nothing transmitted into the earphones except a faint,
electronic hiss. He listened for several more minutes. When his jaw
began to ache, Burke realized that his teeth were clenched. His fingers
were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they were white.
Slowly he pried them off. Removing the headset, he irritably tossed it
onto the empty seat beside him. He wiped his sleeve across his sweating
forehead.
Eventually, he started his car and drove away.
Burke left the newly painted van parked behind an abandoned warehouse,
hoping it would still be there, intact, when he returned for it tomorrow
morning. Before rounding the corner, he glanced back at the vehicle, and
was pleased with his stencil. From this distance, the Jenny's House logo
was barely legible. It looked like an amateur job, which was what he'd
wanted.
Lost in thought as he made his way along the banquet, he didn't see
Mac Mccuen until the man was directly in front of him, blocking his path
"Burke! Christ, man, I've been looking all over the city for you."
Mentally Burke groaned. The last thing he needed was Mac's distracting
chitchat. But he attempted a smile and pretended to be glad to see him.
"Hey, Mac. How're you doin'?"
"I almost didn't recognize you. What's with your hair? Where's your
mustache?"
"Last time I saw, the bathroom sink."
"That'll take some getting used to." Then, changing pace from reflective
to charged, he asked what the hell Burke had been up to.
"Not much. How'd you find me?"
"It wasn't easy. I started asking around a few days ago, but nobody knew
where you were at. Either that or nobody was talking. Then I thought of
Dixie. She remembered seeing you."
"How much did that cost you?"
"Ten bucks."
"I paid her twenty to forget it." "Well, Mac said with a philosophic
shrug, "you know whores."
Yeah, he knew whores. Some would sell out a friend for ten dollars.
Others held out for limousines and mansions.
Knowing that Mac wouldn't be easy to shake, Burke bit the bullet and
offered to buy him a beer. To his surprise, Mac declined."I'm in a hurry
now. But the reason I've been looking for you is to invite you to
dinner. Tonight. Sort of a retirement party."
Burke couldn't think of an occasion better avoided."I appreciate the
thought, Mac, but no thanks."
"Relax. Dozens of people aren't going to pop out from behind the
furniture and yell Surprise." Nothing like that. Just you, me, and Toni.
She wants to cook."
"Sounds nice, but " Mac, being his irrepressible self, poked his index
finger into the center of Burke's chest."I won't take no for an answer.
Five dollars says you've got no other plans for tonight. So be there.
Seven o'clock Know where I live? I wrote the address on the back." He
pressed a business card into Burke's reluctant hand.
Even for Mac, who was always overeager and hyperactive, this was strange
behavior. As he turned to leave, Burke caught his sleeve.
"You've never invited me to dinner before, Mac. What's up?"
"Your future." Burke tilted his head quizzically. Mac said, "Tonight."
Then he pulled his arm free and struck off down the banquet, walking
briskly.
Burke turned over the business card and read what Mac had written down.
It wasn't his street address.
Burke had been to the Mccuens' house only once, when he'd dropped Mac
off after work. Mac's car had been in the garage, and he hadn't wanted
to inconvenience his wife, so he had inconvenienced Burke instead.
On that occasion, it had been after dark and Burke hadn't given the
neighborhood any particular notice. Now, as he arrived at dusk, he was
surprised to see how well the Mccuens lived, which was much more
affluently than he and Barbara had, or the Stuarts. The houses on Mac's
street were spaced far apart, separated by clipped hedgerows and
manicured lawns. Cars in driveways were expensive, late models.
Mac opened the front door before Burke reached it."Glad you're here,
Burke. Come meet my wife." Smiling, shaking hands, and slapping Burke on
the back, Mac pulled him into a wide vestibule. There was no trace of
mystery in his bearing, none of the nervousness evinced earlier that
day. Burke had brought with him a six-pack of imported beer and a
bouquet of flowers.
He handed Mac the six-pack and presented the bouquet to Toni Mccuen when
Mac introduced them.
She was a petite blonde who was as good-looking as her proud husband had
boasted. She thanked Burke for the flowers in a heavily accented, deep
South, sugar-coated voice that was genuine."I'm so pleased to finally
meet you. To hear Mac tell it, Burke Basile is a living legend."
"Hardly. It's a pleasure to meet you, Toni."
"It's nice out tonight. Why don't y'all take your beeah out on the
patio. I'll call you when dinner's ready. It shouldn't be too long now."
As they moved outside, Mac showed him where they were planning to
install a swimming pool."I gave Toni a choice a pool or a baby.
She chose the pool." Mac winked." Course I'm still doing my best to
knock her up. Bet you ten to one she'll be pregnant by the time the
swimming pool is in, but what the hell."
The patio furniture wasn't the kind bought cheaply in the hope that it
would last at least one summer season. The barbecue setup was the
Rolls-Royce of outdoor cooking. By the time Toni called them to dinner,
Burke had deduced that either the Mccuens were living way beyond their
means on credit, or that Toni had brought a sizable dowry into the
marriage, or that Mac's gambling was providing a substantial second
income.
One thing was certain: They couldn't live this high on the hog on a
cop's salary.
After a superb dinner of pork tenderloin with all the trimmings, the
charming Toni shooed them out of the dining room so she could clean up.
"Is it too cold for you outside?" Mac asked.
"Not at all."
They returned to the patio with brandies and cigars and, for a while,
sat silently enjoying both. Burke waited for Mac to commence the
conversation which he'd obviously orchestrated to take place out of his
wife's hearing. Burke had determined not to bring up Mac's obscure
reference to his future, or question him about the warning he had
scribbled on the back of his business card: Watch your back. Others are.
This was Mac's party. It was up to him to provide the entertainment.
Out of the darkness, Mac asked, "Why'd you quit, Burke? And don't give
me that bullshit about burnout."
"It's not bullshit. After Kev died, my heart just wasn't in it anymore."
"You hated it when I got bumped up to detective sergeant and took over
leadership of his squad, didn't you? No, don't say anything," Mac said
when he saw that Burke was about to object."I know you didn't like it.
I understood how it was between you and Kev Stuart."
"You make it sound like we were lovers or something."
Mac snuffled a laugh."I know better than that. But I also know how hard
you took it when he died."
Burke couldn't think of a suitable response, so he said nothing.
He wasn't going to discuss his innermost feelings with Mac, first
because his sentiments were nobody else's business and, second, because
he didn't entirely trust Mac.
He had no specific reason to mistrust him. He just had a gut feeling
that Mac's flashiness and amiability concealed a darker, more sinister
aspect of his personality. Until Burke could identify that character
flaw, he would remain wary of Mac.
Mac continued: "What I'm saying is, I don't think that what happened to
Stuart is a reason for you to quit."
"That wasn't all of it."
"I know about the split with your wife."
"News travels fast."
"Especially when it's about a legend."
Burke cursed."That's the second time tonight I've heard that crap Keep
it up and it's going to piss me off. I'm no fucking legend."
Mac chuckled, but his laughter didn't quite ring true. He leaned
forward, placing his forearms on his knees and focusing on the fiery tip
of his cigar."Was Kev the one, Burke?"
"The one what?"
Mac lifted his gaze and gave him a direct look."The leak in our
division."
If Mac had offered him the alluring Toni for a night of amorous frolic,
he couldn't have been more stunned. Then his shock turned to anger.
"Is that what you think?" "I don't think it, no," Mac said."It's just
that people talk."
"What people?" "You know," he said, lifting his shoulders."People.
Within the division. And I.A. has been asking questions, too."
Internal Affairs was asking questions? Did that mean that the probe l he
had campaigned for had finally come about? He'd raised the hackles of
everybody from Doug Pat right on up to the commissioner by insisting
that a covert investigation be conducted within the department until the
mole was exposed and elimina
ted. What an irony it would be if they
suspected Kev.
"Some guys, not me," Mac clarified quickly."But some guys have
speculated that maybe you discovered Kev's treachery and, when the
opportunity presented itself, you popped him and dropped him. Is that
the way it went down?" "No," Burke said tersely.
"Or ..."
When the other man stalled, Burke pressed him."Come on, Mac. What else
are they speculating?"
"That it was you." Burke showed none of what he was feeling, but Mac
must have felt the heat emanating from him and feared an eruption of
outrage because he spoke now in a breathless rush: "Well, look at it
from their standpoint, Basile. We pulled down a hell of a raid the other
night."
"I read about it. Congratulations."
"So it looks " "Mighty suspicious that things start turning around in
the division's favor the minute I got out."
"It would look a hell of a lot better if you'd come back."
