S is for Silence (Kinsey Millhone 19)

“Something came up. I had business to take care of.”

“I wasn’t complaining.”

“It sure sounded like that to me. If you’re here to whine, don’t bother. I already had a big dose of self-pity from Winston.”

“Why’s he so mad?”

“Because he’s a jerk. Know what he said? He wanted me to lend him the money for his college tuition. Can you picture it? The nerve! I said, ‘Why would I do that? What do I look like, a damn bank manager? I wouldn’t lend you a dime if my life depended on it, you little creep.’”

“You’re always talking about your money. Maybe he thought you’d be willing to help.”

“Yeah, well, any money I have is mine and I’m not giving it away. So what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“That’s what he said. About what?”

Jake lowered his voice. “I know you’ve been pulling away. It’s been going on for weeks and it’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad. That’s all I want to say. It’s probably for the best and so be it.”

Violet’s tone was flat. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Feels to me like you’ve gone and found someone else.”

“What if I have? I can’t count on you, that’s for damn sure. You’ve got Mary Hairl and I’m out here in the cold trying to look after myself. I need to get the hell out of Dodge and what do you have to offer? Nothing. A big fat zero.”

“I’m not blaming you, I swear. I know I don’t have anything to offer and I’m sorry about that because I’d help if I could. I guess the best we can say is we never made each other any promises.”

She turned and squinted at him. “Wait a minute, what is this? Are you breaking it off?”

He motioned a palm flat against the air, trying to get her to lower her voice. “I’d just like to be a good husband to Mary Hairl in whatever time she has left. You think I want to do this? You’re all I’ve thought about for months. For a while, I didn’t see how I could live without you. Even now, I’m not sure how I’ll make it. As much as you’ve meant…

“As much as I’ve meant? I couldn’t have meant much if you’re chucking me aside like a piece of garbage. What’s the problem, wasn’t I good enough? You sure took advantage while it suited you, you dumb fuck, and now that you’re tired of me-”

“Don’t say things like that. You know how it was. Both of us were hurting so we helped each other out. I’m grateful for that, but you need something better and it seems like you found it. I just want you to know that I’m happy for you and wishing you the best.”

“Well, that’s damn generous. You’re wishing me the best. Wonder what you’ll wish for when Foley finds out.”

He could feel his heart skip and all the warm feelings drained away. “Let’s hope that never happens for your sake as well as mine.”

“Oh, it’ll happen all right. You know how I know?” She glanced at her watch. “Because about six o’clock tonight, minute he gets home, I’ll have an attack of conscience and ‘fess right up. I’ll tell him how shocked and appalled I was when you forced your unwanted sexual attentions on me and how poor Mary Hairl has no idea you’re strutting around with a big old hard-on, rubbing up against every woman who walks by.”

“Oh, don’t do that.” His tone sounded plaintive, even to his own ears.

“Why not? I gotta protect myself.”

“He’s not going to believe you. Why would he take your word for anything? God only knows how many guys you’ve screwed-”

Violet picked up her wine and flung it in his face, then tossed the glass aside. It hit the floor, bounced once, and smashed. She took up her purse and walked out without looking back. Winston turned his head, watching her departure, and then his gaze traveled back to the bar, where Jake sat as though shot, his heart pounding at the shock. The jolt of lukewarm red wine had drenched his face and soaked into the front of his shirt. BW appeared from the back room. He took one look at Jake, reached for a towel, and passed it across the bar. Jake pressed the towel against his face, wishing he could disappear. Thank god only BW and Winston were there to bear witness.

Outside he could hear the engine turn over in Foley’s rattle-trap truck. Violet took off with a squeal, throwing up gravel against the underside with a rapid rata-tat-tat. He could feel the panic mount his frame. Surely she wouldn’t do anything so dangerous as to tell Foley about him. He knew she was furious, but she’d taken it the wrong way. He wasn’t rejecting her, he was setting her free.