“An email with details about Sara’s suicide?”
“No. You mean from the firm?”
“I don’t know.”
Maybe it just went to me, then. But why?“Wanda Simms told me Cowl was her mentor. Did you know that?”
Her face got puffy and her manner grew subdued. She looked down at her gin like she wanted to jump into it and pass through to a fresh new world. “He mentors lots of people.”
“So is he mentoring you?”
She glowered at him, and in that look Devine knew he had blown it. “I don’t have to answer that. I don’t have to talk to you at all.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and Devine turned to see WASP and two of his comrades in beers standing there. The other two were at least six-four and built like the college athletes they no doubt had once been.
“Is he bothering you?” WASP asked.
Stamos gave Devine a look with eyebrows raised as if to say, Should I sacrifice you or not? It’s up to you. So start begging.
But she sure as hell wasn’t going to get that from him. Her lovely face once more turned nasty when confronted with his stony, unrepentant look.
“Yes. Can you do something about it?” she said, not taking her gaze off Devine.
“Hell yes we can. Let’s go, buddy. There’s a little spot around the corner where they keep the trash. We can go there and settle things.”
“Or we can just go our separate ways, no harm, no foul,” said Devine as he made a move to do just this, until WASP clenched his shoulder harder.
“That’s what I thought as soon as I saw you—you’re a chicken-shit,” said WASP. “But if you want to pussy out, feel free.”
“Don’t go there, buddy,” said Devine.
Stamos interjected, “Hey, just everybody cool it. Let him go.”
WASP ignored this and said in a louder voice, “I know what, we’ll all give a toast to the chickenshit as you walk out the door with your tail between your legs.” He pushed Devine away. “Go on, run away before you get hurt.”
Devine laid down cash for the beer, finished it in two more gulps, crushed the empty can in his hand, turned to WASP, and said in a low, menacing voice, “I’m leaving now, but consider yourself really, really lucky, prick.”
He rammed his way through the crowd and out the door.
And then the three men made a big mistake.
They followed him.