V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)

He shrugged, refusing to look me in the eye. “Let’s hope. Otherwise, I’m in a world of hurt.”

I sat there wondering which was worse: making the wrong decision and having a load of shit rain down on my head, or avoiding calamity and feeling overwhelmed with guilt. That was the moment that nearly did me in. I teetered on the brink and finally shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but if I agree, I’ll regret it.”

He stood up and I followed suit. When he reached across the desk to shake my hand, he managed to convey a sense of finality. “I don’t want you to feel bad for turning me down. I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”

“I hope you figure it out.”

“Me too. Meanwhile, I appreciate your time. You take care now. I can let myself out.”

“Will you keep in touch?”

“If possible,” he said.

We exchanged awkward good-byes and then he left my inner office, moving toward the outside door. I truly wondered if I’d ever see him again. I returned to the office window and looked out. It took a few seconds before he appeared in my field of vision. I should have known he was up to something, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I leaned my head against the glass, watching as he disappeared down the street. I half expected to hear gunfire or the squeal of tires as a license-plate-free vehicle accelerated and ran over him.

I sank into my swivel chair and experienced the full weight of my remorse. Next time he asked for anything—if he lived long enough—I’d say yes no matter what. This was one of those “little did I know” moments, though I wasn’t aware of it at the time. I don’t know how long I might have sat there berating myself, but I had another visitor.

I heard a tap on the outside door, which then opened and closed. I got up and crossed to the door, peering around the frame to find out who’d come in. Marvin’s bar buddy, Earldeen, was in the process of taking off her coat. It crossed my mind he might have sent her to apologize, being too cowardly and too embarrassed to do so himself.

I said, “Hey, Earldeen. I didn’t expect to see you.”

She held up one of the business cards I’d left at the Hatch. “Lucky Ollie had this or I wouldn’t have known where you were.”

“Come on in,” I said. “You want me to hang that up?”

“This is fine,” she said. She laid her coat over the back of one of the guest chairs while she took a seat in the other. She was easily a head taller than me and she’d probably fallen into the habit of bad posture as a teen in hopes of looking the same height as everyone else. The scent of bourbon hovered in the air around her, though she was sober as far as I could tell.

I returned to my desk and sat down. “Is there some way I can be of help?”

“More like I’m here to help you. Something came up I thought you ought to know about.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Well, after you left the Hatch yesterday, this fellow came in. I hadn’t seen him for a while, but he knew Audrey pretty well, because the two of them used to have these long heart-to-heart talks. This was a year ago, before she and Marvin started stepping out together. I haven’t seen him since. I thought he must be an ex-husband or an old boyfriend, someone she didn’t want Marvin to know about.”

“And was that the case?”

“At the time, I wasn’t sure, but I’ll admit I was curious. He’s a good-looking guy. Midfifties, tall, with curly gray hair, and these big old brown eyes. He and Audrey always had their heads together and when I asked who he was, she brushed the question aside. They were a bad match in my opinion. She was a good ten years older than him and, no disrespect intended, he was much too handsome for the likes of her. I know that sounds terrible, but it’s the truth.”

“Did he come in looking for her yesterday?”

Earldeen shook her head. “He was meeting someone else. This was a woman who didn’t have any business in a place like the Hatch. She was more the country-club type, if you know what I mean.”

“Close enough,” I said. “What happened?”

“Nothing much. They chatted for a minute or two and then he ushered her out the side door and that was the last I saw of them.”

“Why tell me?”

“Well, that’s just it. Back when this was going on, I asked Ollie who he was and he told me his name is Lorenzo Dante. Have you heard of him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He goes by the name Dante so nobody gets him mixed up with his dad, Lorenzo Dante Senior. Ollie says he’s a gangster.”