Treasure Hunt

“That gets you to fifty million?”

“Pretty close, most years.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s impressive.”

“So, I’ve got to ask this, what was Dominic making ru

“Sure. It’s public record again. You could look it up in twenty minutes.” She broke a small smile. “But you don’t have to because I already know. His salary was six hundred forty-eight thousand dollars.”

“Every year?”

“Last year, anyway. And at least close to that the year before, and before that.” She shrugged. “It’s a major executive job, Mickey. He earned what he made. He deserved it.”

“Still,” Mickey said. “Six hundred and fifty grand. Makes me think I might want to go into charity work myself.”

“I thought you wanted to be a chef.”

“I do. But I’m flexible. For that kind of money I believe I could be tempted.”

“No.” She touched his arm again. “You don’t do it for the money. You do it for the work. It’s great helping people, it really is. Way better than standing in a restaurant saying hello with your smile on all day.

That’s why I got into my own volunteering. Although now with Dominic gone…” She stopped and visibly gathered herself as she threatened to tear up. “Sorry,” she said. “I keep doing this.” But wiping her hands over her eyes, she got herself back under control. “So I guess we’re to that now. My relationship with Dominic.”

“We can be if you’re comfortable with it.”

“I’m fine with it.” The words confident enough that they carried with them almost the hint of a threat. “I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.”

“Although the other day you said that maybe you and Mr. Como were too close. What did you mean by that?”

“I meant that there was some chemistry, physical chemistry, that we both acknowledged. But he was a married man and he wasn’t going there. And neither was I. We’d even talked about me quitting so we wouldn’t be around one another so much, but that just seemed like a needless hardship on both of us. And why did we want that? We liked being together. We joked and had little secret things we did that made everything fun. I mean it, in the middle of all this serious stuff he did, every day was fun. He was just a great guy doing great work. And that was the other side of it.”

“Of what?”

“The job. The actual job.”

“What about the job?”

She bit her lower lip. “This is the part where you laugh at me.”

“I don’t think so. Try me.”

As they started walking again, she took a breath of air. “I kind of want to go into politics and change the world. At least try to make it a better place.”

“That’s not a bad thing. The politics, maybe, but not the general idea.”

“No, I know. But here I am with my little degree in political science, and I’m a hostess at Morton’s. You know what I’m saying?”

“Sure. You wanted to do something more important.”

She nodded. “And now you’re thinking, ‘So she gets a job driving a limo?’ ”

“I’m not thinking that. I’m listening.”

“Okay. So the thing about this job with Dominic isn’t so much about driving him around. It’s about moving into another world where there’s power and money and good things can happen.” She was getting into it now and her voice came to life. “You know what happened to the last three of Dominic’s morning drivers? This is in, like, the last two or three years.” She held up one finger. “Jon Royce, now administrative assistant to guess who? Alice Tallent, city supervisor. Two, Terry McGrath, EMT school and fast- tracked to the Fire Department. Three, DeShawn Ellis, scout for the San Francisco Giants who got Dominic and me the best tickets I’ve ever seen last Opening Day.”

“Co

She nodded. “I know it might sound crass and self-serving, and then, of course, it maybe looks like I’m using the relationship with Dominic to get a leg up on a career. But I’d already done a lot of volunteer time at Sunset when Ian was there, just to be near my brother. So it wasn’t like I just glommed on to this opportunity to get ahead. And then this driving job came up, and I was kind of next in line, and I truly didn’t know how I was going to feel about Dominic once I got to know him.”

On the way back, by now chilled to the bone, they found themselves on either end of the back couch at the Little Shamrock, drinking Irish coffees. The place, late on a Sunday afternoon, had only two other customers playing a nearly silent and intense game of darts.

Alicia came back from the bar and put their second round down on the small table in front of them. Sitting back, she crossed one leg over the other and flashed a quick glance in Mickey’s direction. “Here we’ve been doing all this talking,” she said, “and I haven’t really been completely straight with you.”

“About Dominic?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, not about Dominic. I’ve told you everything about Dominic.” Hesitating, she drew a breath. “You know how I said I must have blocked out everything around what happened with my mom and dad? That’s not really true.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Mickey said. “I don’t think anybody does that, not at nine years old. I was going to let it slide.”

She nodded. “I noticed. And I thank you for that. But maybe I shouldn’t be so defensive about it. Especially with somebody who’s doing all this work for me and who’s been through something so similar.”

“I don’t know how similar it really was, Alicia. Me and Tamara got a home out of it. I gather you and Ian didn’t.”

“No,” she said. “They split us up. Not that they tried to, but Ian was, I guess, kind of gangly and sullen and all bad attitude. So it turned out not too many people were willing to take a chance on him.”

“But they were with you?”

A shrug. “I was quieter, maybe more pliable. Just as angry as Ian was, I think. Maybe I still am, I don’t know. But nobody saw it at first, although none of my homes really stuck either. Anyway, the bottom line is we got separated pretty quick, and he got into most of the drugs in the universe and some pretty bad behavior.”

Mickey remembered. “He told me he spent some time at the work farm.”

“Not really some time,” she said. “Just about all the time from thirteen to eighteen.”

“But you kept up with him?”

“Not so hard, really. His address didn’t change.” She reached for her Irish coffee and took a sip. “Anyway, I guess my point is that I was on my own and wasn’t really too much of an angel myself. I don’t like to think about how I was back then, but I don’t want to pretend to you that I didn’t have any reaction to what my dad did, and that I didn’t act out because of it. Because I did. I was pretty rage-driven.”

“Okay.”

“No, not really okay. I was as bad as Ian was, not with all the drugs, maybe, but getting myself in trouble. And I kind of focused on older men, if you see where I’m going with this.”

“Dominic.”

She nodded. “If the cops look, they’re going to think they see a pattern,” she said. “But I wanted you to know that stopped a long time ago, and it was all long over by the time I started working with Dominic. And it didn’t start up again with him.”

“I believed you the first time,” Mickey said.

“Still,” she said. She reached over and rested her hand for a second or two on his thigh, looked into his eyes. “I wanted you to know.”

Mickey, his leg nearly burning where she’d rested her hand, reached out and grabbed his own Irish coffee, brought it to his mouth. “Well, while we’re on this type of stuff,” he said, “Ian mentioned something else I was a little curious about.”

“What’s that?”

“Jail.” He put his glass down.

“What about jail?” Suddenly her voice became querulous, frightened. In her eyes he picked up a sense of the dark rage she’d alluded to earlier. “I’m not going to jail,” she whispered at him. “You said you were going to keep me out of jail.”