The 6:20 Man

“Does poor Will know? That’s basically his second home.”

“He knows.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to . . . arrange things. Nice to meet you, Michelle. Let’s get together again, Travis, after tonight.”

She walked off. Hands on hips, Montgomery immediately faced off with Devine and said, “What was allthat about?”

“What was what all about?”

“Oh, please. You two have a thing going.”

Devine went over and closed the door. “No we don’t. We’re just roommates.”

“Just roommates don’t give women who are moving into a guy’s bedroom that look. She might as well have peed on the floor to mark her territory.”

Devine closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He did not want to get into all that, and he certainly didn’t want to tell Montgomery that he and Speers had slept together.

“All I can say is there is nothing between us.” Except for a pair of guns, he thought. And secrets.

Later they went to get some dinner in Mount Kisco. The TV on the restaurant wall had the latest details about the murder of Christian Chilton and his body’s being found in Brad Cowl’s pool. The news said nothing with regard to the whereabouts of the missing magnate.

They walked back to the town house to find Jill Tapshaw and Valentine chatting in the kitchen.

“Hello,” said Tapshaw to Montgomery. “I’m Jill.”

Devine said quickly, “Jill, this is Michelle Montgomery, she’s a friend from—”

“—the city,” filled in Montgomery. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jill founded Hummingbird.”

“The dating service? I’ve been on there. It’s really cool.”

“You’ve been on a dating site?” said Devine, while Valentine gaped.

Tapshaw frowned. “Dating services, at least the good kind, are for everyone looking for relationships.”

“Travis told me that Sara Ewes was on Hummingbird,” said Montgomery.

“That’s right,” said Tapshaw. “She was one of my first hundred subscribers.”

Devine stared down at his hands because he didn’t want anyone to see his expression. I don’t remember mentioning that to Michelle.

Later, while Montgomery was in his bathroom, Devine slipped into his room, got his gun, and put it in the back of his waistband, then slid his shirt over the weapon to hide it.

Montgomery came out of the bathroom wearing loose-fitting athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, you know.” When he shot her a glance she added, “Men and women have been known to sleep in the same bed without having sex.”

“Yeah, married men and women,” Devine quipped. “I’ll be safer on the couch.”

He fell asleep quickly, but in his dreams he once more saw the dead faces of Blankenship and Hawkins. He tried to say something in his sleep, answer their haunting looks in some way, but he couldn’t. Yet it did manage to wake him up.

And he just lay there staring at the ceiling and wondering when this would all be over. And whether he would be there to see it.

Just like in the Middle East, the odds are not looking to be in my favor.