Brutality

by Ingrid Thoft

  “What?” Kevin asked, his hand frozen on the refrigerator.

  “Fina Ludlow.”

  He pulled open the door and grabbed a beer. He took his time popping off the top before wandering back to the bed and climbing in next to her.

  She was on her back, the sheet around her belly button, a business card pinched between two fingers.

  “Where’d you get that?” Kevin asked, plucking it from her grasp.

  “Your wallet.”

  He saw his wallet lying open on the duvet cover.

  “Why are you going through my wallet?” Kevin snapped it closed and tossed it on the bedside table, a white melamine number from IKEA that looked like it could be destroyed in less time than it took to assemble.

  “I needed a tip for the pizza guy,” she said, stretching her hands overhead.

  “What? You don’t have any money?” He tried to make it sound like he was teasing, but even to his own ears it sounded accusatory.

  “Don’t be cheap, Kevin. Just give me a few bucks.”

  He pulled out some ones and held them out to her.

  She put the singles on her bedside table and reached for his beer. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, taking the bottle from him and having a long swig.

  “She’s no one you have to worry about.” He reached out and grazed his fingertips across her flat, hard belly.

  His companion took another long drink and held his gaze. She handed the bottle back to him. “Don’t treat me like a child, Kevin.”

  As he looked around the studio apartment, it was no wonder that Kevin felt like the grown-up of the pair. The room was a tiny amalgamation of bedroom, kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one, with the bathroom the only area separated by a door. Her books were stacked on the table that doubled as a desk, and posters were tacked on the walls. The only reason he’d agreed to meet her here was that she was getting impatient and moody, which made him nervous. He needed to keep her happy, at least for the time being.

  “I’m not treating you like a child,” he insisted.

  “Then tell me who she is, and what kind of a name is Fina?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve only met her a couple of times. At the office,” he added hastily when she raised an eyebrow. “It was university business.”

  There was a buzz at the door. She got up and pulled on a silk robe he had bought her. It looked sexier when she wore it in hotel rooms. She paid the delivery man and got plates and napkins from the kitchen area. Kevin took the box from her outstretched hands and started to place it on the duvet cover.

  “Wait! You’re going to get grease on the duvet.” She pulled a ratty-looking towel from an open shelving unit and spread it out. Kevin put down the box and sat up, adjusting the pillows behind his back. The young woman tossed the robe onto a pile of unfolded laundry and reclaimed her spot next to him.

  Kevin pulled a steaming slice of pepperoni out of the box.

  “What kind of university business?” she asked, biting into her slice.

  “Stuff related to the lawsuit. That’s why I told you we had to cool it, because people would be asking questions.”

  She chewed. “I don’t like it,” she commented after a moment.

  “Which part?”

  “Having to cool it and people asking questions, especially women.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you she was a troll?” He grinned.

  “I’m not sure I’d believe you.” She nibbled on the crust. “How much longer until we can go back to the way things were? Go back to our regular routine?”

  “I don’t know, but this isn’t so bad, is it?” Kevin asked. “I know we’re not seeing as much of each other, but distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

  She glared at him. “Some people say it makes the heart wander.”

  It occurred to Kevin that somehow, over these past few months, she’d gotten the idea that she was in control of the relationship—that what she said or did or even felt would determine their future. He wasn’t sure how she’d gotten that idea. Maybe he’d given it to her, and maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. Or maybe he was just kidding himself, and he wasn’t in control, either.

  —

  Fina spent the rest of the day working her way down the list of stores that Angelo had provided. No one she spoke with recognized the man or admitted to recognizing him. She hadn’t really expected a positive ID right away, but she’d hoped for one nonetheless. Fina wasn’t sure what her next move was, and she had a little time to kill before her meeting at Ludlow and Associates.

  Traffic over the Charles was slow. On the Cambridge side, Fina took a few shortcuts and drove into Central Square. Once a poor cousin to Harvard Square up the road, Central Square had cleaned up, boasting hipper restaurants and nicer housing options. It was symbolic of the age-old arguments for and against gentrification: The area felt safer, but less diverse. There were more things to do, but fewer people could afford to do them.

  A brief walk from her car brought her to the ATM that Jamie frequented. Immediately across the street from her vantage point was a CVS, a real estate office, a liquor store, and what looked to be some kind of nonprofit. A couple of bars and restaurants were visible, and a dental office that, with its neon sign, looked more like a fast food restaurant. Fina made a note of the businesses that she could easily identify and then checked her watch.

  The businesses that shared the sidewalk with the ATM were varied: a coffee shop, a dry cleaner, two bars, another restaurant, a law office, and a hardware store. Fina jotted these down with the others and tucked her notebook into her bag. A few of them were worth investigating, but that would have to wait if she was going to be on time for her meeting.

  And she wanted to be on time. Not because she couldn’t deal with the wrath of Carl, but because she didn’t want Bobbi to have to face him on her own.

  Fina didn’t wish that on her worst enemy, let alone someone she liked.

  22.

  Bobbi was sitting in the waiting area outside Carl’s office when Fina arrived at Ludlow and Associates. Fina gave her a hug, and they were ushered in to see her father.

  Carl stood and came around to the front of the desk to shake Bobbi’s hand. He looked handsome and prosperous in his Angelo-designed suit. He and Bobbi were probably close in age, but Carl’s edges were smoother than hers, from a lack of grief, but also, Fina imagined, from the relative ease of his life.

  “Mrs. Barone, or should I call you Bobbi?” Carl asked, gently guiding her to a chair, his hand on her back.

  “Bobbi is fine.”

  Carl went around his desk and sat down. “First, let me say how sorry I am about the loss of your daughter. We lost a family member not too long ago, one of my daughters-in-law. I know it’s not the same thing, but there’s something unnatural about the younger generation predeceasing us.”

  Bobbi nodded and gave him a tight smile. Fina thought it was interesting that her father didn’t reference the loss of his own daughter. Perhaps you couldn’t compare the death of a young child to that of a fully grown one, or maybe he didn’t care to share this personal information with a stranger. Fina imagined it was the latter.

  “Did Shari offer you something to drink?” Carl asked. Fina had taken off her coat and settled in the chair next to Bobbi.

  “Yes, but I’ve had enough tea and coffee to last a lifetime.”

  “How about something stronger?” Carl asked, gesturing toward the minibar.

  Bobbi’s eyes wandered in that direction. “If you’ve got it, I’m game,” she said after a moment.

  Carl nodded at Fina, who retrieved two tumblers, a bottle of scotch, and a diet soda from the bar. She placed the glasses and scotch in front of her father, who poured a generous amount for himself and Bobbi. Fina sat back down and popped open her soda.

  Bo
bbi took a sip of her drink and exhaled deeply. “This is good stuff,” she said.

  “Only the best for our clients,” Carl offered.

  “Aren’t your clients footing the bill?” Bobbi asked. She raised her glass with a slight smile on her face.

  “No. The insurance companies and manufacturers and corporate America—they’re footing the bill.” He took a sip from his glass. “Fina, why don’t you start by giving Bobbi an update on your progress?”

  “Oookay,” she said, not expecting to be first up. “I have to warn you, though, I’m at a stage in the case where I don’t have much to update, but I’m making progress.”

  Carl gave her a look. It wasn’t the kind of update he wanted, but Fina wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. It was like the tectonic plates shifting deep below the earth: Lots of stuff was happening, but it wouldn’t be obvious until the earthquake hit.

  “Okay,” Bobbi said. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

  “I have a lead on the man who planted the incendiary device in my car.”

  “So you think that was related to Liz?” she asked.

  “I won’t know for sure until I find the guy, but I’m making progress on that front.”

  Carl waggled the bottle of scotch at Bobbi. She hesitated, so he leaned over and poured some more.

  “You deserve it,” Carl said. Her father was like the devil on your shoulder who told you exactly what you wanted to hear, giving you permission to indulge your basest desires.

  Bobbi picked up the glass and took a sip before carefully placing it back down on the desk. “It’s so frustrating. I feel like no one has any real information for me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fina said. “I wish I could give you something concrete.”

  “Fina is excellent at her job,” Carl said. “She’ll find whoever did this to your daughter.”

  Fina looked at Carl. She was surprised by his vote of confidence, but also troubled by his promise. He shouldn’t make any guarantees on her behalf.

  “I know,” Bobbi said. “It’s just that the police aren’t telling me anything, either.”

  “They have to protect their case. I know it’s maddening, but just try to hang in there.” Fina took a drink before continuing. “Do you know if Jamie saw Gus Sibley for his knee injury?” she asked, hoping to get her questions answered before Bobbi got another refill.

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t know. Is that relevant?”

  “It might be.” Fina adjusted in her seat. “I know this is a delicate subject, and I’ve asked you before, but do you think Liz was involved with someone outside her marriage?”

  Bobbi looked surprised. “An affair? I doubt it.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Fina asked. Carl watched them intently.

  “First of all,” Bobbi said, “she didn’t have time, and secondly, I don’t think she had the inclination.”

  “Parents don’t always know what their kids are up to,” Carl offered.

  “And some of them choose to ignore what’s going on,” Fina said, looking at him.

  “I don’t think she was involved with anyone,” Bobbi said, shaking her head.

  “Okay,” Fina said. “Just covering all the bases.”

  Bobbi looked weary, so Fina gave her father a pointed look. Get on with your spiel, she tried to wordlessly communicate to him.

  “Bobbi,” Carl said, leaning forward. “I know it probably seems indelicate to discuss the lawsuit against NEU at this time, but time is of the essence.”

  “Mr. Ludlow—Carl—discussing the lawsuit doesn’t even register when you think about the two weeks I’ve had. My child was attacked, hooked up to every conceivable machine, her organs were harvested, and we’re donating her brain to science, per her wishes. I don’t see how you can live through that and still care about politeness or sensitivity.”

  Carl nodded. “I understand. Who is the executor of Liz’s estate?”

  “I am, although her husband is the main beneficiary.” Carl and Fina exchanged a brief glance.

  “And he supports the lawsuit?” he asked.

  “He’ll support whatever Liz wanted to do, but he has no interest in meetings like this one.”

  “So he’s on board, but he’s not leading the charge,” Carl clarified.

  “Correct.”

  “I’m going to get right to the point, Bobbi. Your current attorney isn’t providing good representation. I can do better. In fact, we’re the best, and we’ll get you the biggest settlement possible.”

  “If he does say so himself,” Fina murmured, toying with the tab on her soda can.

  Bobbi gave her a weary smile. “What would you do differently from Thatcher Kinney?”

  “Everything,” Carl said. “First of all, lots of lawsuits are won or lost in the court of public opinion. Mr. Kinney hasn’t taken advantage of that, and it’s costing you.”

  Bobbi cradled the heavy tumbler in the palm of her hand and listened.

  “I will make sure that NEU is held responsible for the damage they inflicted on your daughter,” Carl said.

  “And it won’t cost me anything unless you get money?” Bobbi asked.

  “That’s right,” Carl said. “You won’t incur any out-of-pocket expenses, and if Fina’s investigation proves that Liz’s death was connected to NEU in any way, you won’t be responsible for that cost, either.”

  Bobbi placed her glass on the desk. “I’d like to learn more about your other cases.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll have information messengered over to your house.”

  “When news of the suit went public, Bobbi got some threats,” Fina told Carl. “I hired Dennis Kozlowski to run a security check, and he put some things in place. I think we should continue with that for the time being.”

  Carl looked at her. He knew it was Fina’s way of firmly transferring the bill to him.

  “Of course. Your safety is paramount, Bobbi. You just let Fina know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you. I need to go,” Bobbi said, rising from her chair. “I told Jamie I’d help get the kids dinner and ready for bed.”

  Carl and Bobbi exchanged good-byes, and Fina walked her to the office lobby. When she returned to Carl’s office, he was sitting behind his desk, reading something on his computer.

  “What do you think?” he asked Fina.

  “About her signing on? I think she will.”

  “Good.”

  “Nice touch, pulling out the good booze.”

  “Her kid died,” he said. “I figured she could use a stiff drink.”

  “That’s surprisingly sensitive of you, Dad.”

  Carl raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start with me.”

  “I was complimenting you. Jeez.” Fina looped her bag over her shoulder and started for the door.

  “I don’t like what happened the other night at dinner,” he said before she could make her exit.

  “Meaning?” Fina asked, turning in his direction.

  “You went upstairs and then came down with Haley, who looked upset. Your mother was hurt.”

  Fina opened her mouth in disbelief. “My mother was hurt? Are you shitting me?”

  “Jesus, Fina.”

  “I don’t know who’s crazier; her for thinking the way she does, or you for taking her side.”

  “Fine,” Carl said. “Forget it.”

  “With pleasure,” Fina replied, and strode out of the office.

  —

  Fina called Cristian from the car. Her conversation with Carl had soured her mood, and she thought a crumb of encouraging news might turn it around.

  “Do you have any news for me?” she asked. “Any good news about this case?”

  “Hello to you, too. Are you in your car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pull over if
you want to talk,” he said.

  “Cristian, you can’t be the boss of everyone.”

  “That’s rich coming from you. Why are you in such a bad mood?”

  “The usual reasons. Hey, did you ask Vikram about threatening Liz?” she asked.

  “It’s a dead end,” Cristian said. “He claims he never threatened her, and it’s Dana’s word against his.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I didn’t say that, but there’s no proof supporting either claim, which makes it useless from an evidentiary standpoint.”

  “Great,” Fina said.

  “We’re still looking at him.”

  “What about the bomber?”

  “What about him?” Cristian asked.

  “Anything new?” she asked.

  “You first.”

  “I’m making progress,” Fina said, “but nothing concrete yet.”

  “That about sums things up.”

  “Ugh. This is so frustrating,” she said before laying on her horn. An SUV with a BABY ON BOARD sign had cut her off. If the driver was that concerned about her precious cargo, she shouldn’t be crossing three lanes of traffic to make her exit.

  “Fina!” Cristian exclaimed. “Either get off the phone or get off the road!”

  “Fine. I’ll call you later.”

  “Fine, but eat something before you do. You sound hangry,” Cristian said, and hung up.

  He was right, of course, which only made her feel worse.

  —

  Fina spent most of Sunday stewing and reviewing the case. Her family was a constant source of frustration, but usually she was able to distract herself with her work. But when a case was also frustrating her, it was like a double whammy. Fina knew she just had to push through it, which was why she spent the day poring over the notes and materials she had and trying to figure out her next steps. She broke up the day with an intense workout, and when she climbed into bed, Fina had assembled a plan of sorts.

  Her review of the case kept bringing her back to Jamie and the unanswered questions that related to him. So in the shower the next morning, Fina pondered those questions and the best way to get answers. Once dressed and fed, she put in a call to Matthew.