Страница 36 из 64
That did nothing to quiet the alarms in Da
Richard looked like hell. Dark circles carved canyons under both eyes. Generally capable of a five o’clock shadow by ten in the morning, today he looked like he hadn’t shaved at all, and the salt-and-pepper stubble made him look older, more frail. His tie was impeccably knotted, and gold dice secured French cuffs, but with his left hand he fiddled with a pen, spi
His boss’s evident distress sent a stab through Da
Richard looked at him, rubbed his eyes, and then leaned back. He opened his mouth, stopped himself. Though he looked like a man with something important to ask, what came out was, “How’s the progress on the restaurant?”
“It’s fine. They’re ru
“They know they need extra breakers for the kitchen? Morris wanted every cook surface on its own.”
Da
“And the wiring, they know to use the-”
“It’s under control. What’s on your mind?” He knew, of course, but didn’t dare give any indication.
His boss turned back from the window and began shuffling papers around. “Right. Well, I’ve just been going over the financials, and I wanted to see if yours were up to date.”
“As of last week.”
“Anything change since then?” Was that a note of hope in Richard’s voice?
“No. Everything is pretty much on schedule.”
“We haven’t gotten the advance from the Cumberland people, have we?”
Da
Richard nodded, slumped back in his chair.
“Should I call them about it?” Da
“Yeah, why don’t you do that.”
“Any reason I can give them? For wanting the money this early, I mean?”
Richard peered at his notebook, not looking at Da
“How are we going to do that?” The question sprang from habit, the project manager side of him trying to protect Richard from the pitfalls he liked to dig in front of himself.
“I’ll negotiate a ten percent on a preorder. And the rest we’ll make up by ru
“This bid was already tight. There’s no pad in it.”
“Look, we’ll figure it out when the time comes. Right now, we just need the money.”
“For what?” The moment the question left his mouth, he realized he knew the answer. The puzzle pieces had been in front of him all along, he just hadn’t put them together. Oh God.
Richard looked up, his eyes watery. The normal type-A arrogance was nowhere to be seen. “I… we have some things we need to cover.” He looked back down, his shoulders low. “Just do it, okay?”
It was clearly a dismissal, and Da
How much had he lost?
Enough, came the answer. Enough that he can’t pay the ransom himself.
And as a small business owner, if you find yourself in a desperate situation, like, say, trying to find the money to pay the ransom on your son, where do you go?
He’s going to burn the company.
The bottom fell from his stomach as he walked out. Richard didn’t watch him leave, his attention buried in the company balance sheets, as though a solution might be written within them. But Da
Teller’s earlier words rang in his ears: “He’s a good guy. One of the ones in management you can trust.”
Oh God.
What had he done?
28
After thirty minutes in front of the mirror, Karen had decided to wear her hair back to show off her neck, and gone with lipstick two shades bloodier than normal. The dress was new, a soft, fitted black thing too thin for this time of year. She’d even strapped on a pair of heels. Never let it be said that she didn’t know how to do date night.
Unfortunately, her date was nowhere to be found.
“Another?” The bartender gave her that flirty look reserved for women who’d been stood up.
She started to shake her head, remembered the phone call, the mysterious message that’d had her nerves jangling all afternoon. “Why not.”
A server bumped her chair in passing, the rich smells of marinara and basil making her stomach growl. The hostess looked over, and Karen shook her head. The woman smiled sympathetically, girl to girl, and called out someone else’s name for the table that was supposed to have been theirs forty-five minutes ago.
Out of professional habit, she watched the bartender make her drink. A little heavy on the vermouth and a lot heavy on the ice and the shaking. Bad enough to charge ten bucks for a martini; criminal to bruise it that badly. He set it between the votive candles that lined the black lacquer bar and gave her the look again. “You waiting for someone?”
“Not for much longer,” she said, and turned away.
She’d come in from the gym that afternoon to find the answering machine flashing three. One call from a bar back saying she couldn’t make it to work that night. A computerized voice from Walgreens, telling her a prescription was ready.
And sandwiched between them, that other message.
What had it meant? She hadn’t recognized the voice, but the guy spoke like he knew all about them. She told herself it wasn’t important, that it probably had to do with Da
Ebb and flow, girl. Every relationship has trouble spots.
Sure. But if he didn’t ebb-and-flow in here in the next five minutes, she was changing the locks.
She spotted him fighting his way through the crowd with two minutes to spare. He wore a black jacket over a soft gray oxford, and when he glanced at his watch, she could see him grimace and swear. Her heart caught a little bit, even after all the years.
He smiled at her, boyishly contrite. “I’m sorry, Kar.”
“You’d have been sorrier in two minutes,” she said, standing and thumbs-upping the hostess, her voice mock angry. “I look good.”
His laugh made her think that maybe date night would work out after all. As they walked to their table, he rested a hand on the small of her back. He didn’t pull out her chair – she hated that – but waited to sit down until she had, and smiled at her again.