Private (Private 1)

We were on our sides, facing each other. I pulled her thigh over my hip and suddenly we were immersed in a deep kiss, the sound of our breathing overwhelming the rush of the waves.

I didn’t think I could wait another moment—when the goddamned phone rang on the table.

Tommy. I reached for the phone, planning to blast him to hell. Then I read the caller ID. It wasn’t Tommy—and still I had to take the call.

“Jack Morgan,” I said, panting a little.

Carmine Noccia’s tone was casual, but his message was deadly serious.

“Sorry, Jack, but I’ve got bad news for you. Andy Cushman was involved in a one-car accident up the coast. He met a turn in the road head-on and went over a cliff near Marin. The car burned right the hell up. There were no skid marks. I think maybe his brakes failed.”

“You’re sure it was Andy?” I asked. I was having a little trouble talking, and breathing.

“Oh, yeah. It was him. One of my guys saw it happen. We were keeping an eye on him, you know. Hey. You have a good weekend.”

I closed the phone but hung on to it for a moment. I thought about my new silent partner, Carmine Noccia. Never a better friend. Never a worse enemy.

And I thought about how my feelings for Andy had changed once I knew he’d had Shelby murdered.

Andy had been my closest friend. I’d stood up for him at his wedding. I had expected to be

godfather to Andy’s kids, or at least hang out with him when we were old, jetting around to golf courses, swapping memories, laughing our faces off.

And now Andy was dead. I knew I would feel something later, but for now I felt nothing for him.

Nothing at all.

I got out of bed and opened the sliders. Then I hauled back and hurled the phone as far as I could. Far. When the phone hit the waves, I closed the doors and locked them. I went back to Justine.

Could she read my face? Sure.

Could she read my mind? Probably.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She ran her hands down my sides and up my back. “You okay, Jack?”

“I’m fine,” I said, moving her long dark hair away from her face. “It’s time for a new phone, a new phone number.”

“Surprise me sometime, okay? Can you do that? Tell me what you’re actually thinking.”

“I’m thinking we were in the middle of something really good,” I said.

“I remember.”

I pulled Justine close, snugged her thigh over my hip. I kissed her again and got lost in the wonder of her. It was good, exactly where I wanted to be. I could tell her anything, and I did.

“Andy’s dead,” I whispered against Justine’s cheek.