didn’t think Edward would be stupid enough to try and run off a roof to get away. I bet five bucks that he would. But I was just doing it to make a point.”
Angela tried to hand the bill back to him. “It won’t work,” she said. “He’ll know. He knows exactly how much money he has. To the penny.”
Keller shrugged. “He needs it more than I do,” he said. “What with trying to get his immigration problems straightened out. He’s got a good lawyer, and good lawyers cost money.”
She grimaced. “You got that right,” she said. She sat down in the chair behind the counter and massaged her temples as if her head hurt. “And he’s gotten back to the idea of bringing his sons here from Colombia. And that’s going to cost another fortune.” She shook her head. “But you know how he is. He made a bet. He lost. If you try to give it back, he’ll think you’re patronizing him. And he’ll be impossible to live with for days.”
Keller came around the counter and sat down. “So how do you feel about having his kids here?” he said.
She gave a short, sharp laugh. “Boy, there’s a can of worms.”
“Sorry,” Keller said. “If you don’t want to…”
“No, no,” she said. “That’s not what I meant.” She looked down at her hands. “You mind if I take these off?” she said. “I’m roasting.”
“You know you don’t have to ask me,” Keller said softly.
She looked up and smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Well, I’m still working out exactly where we stand, now that…”
“Now that you’re with someone else,” he said. “Well, we’re still friends,” Keller said. “I hope.”
“Yeah,” she said. “We still are.” She began pulling the gloves off as she spoke, exposing the web of burn scars that covered the backs of her hands. “Anyway. He’s been talking about it off and on. He misses his boys and he worries about them. But a couple of weeks ago there was a news story on that Spanish-language station he listens to. A young boy got kidnapped in Bogotá.”
“It’s not like that’s anything new in Colombia,” Keller observed.
“Yeah, but this one really got to him. See, he’d always sort of assumed that it was just the kids of rich people who got snatched and held for ransom. But these kidnappers made a mistake. They got the wrong target. Instead of the rich kid they thought they were getting they got the maid’s son.” She shuddered. “When they discovered their mistake, they slit the boy’s throat.”
Keller’s face darkened. “So it hit him. Anyone’s vulnerable.”
She nodded. “It’s making him crazy. So…” She fell silent.
“So you can’t say anything about the way you feel,”
Keller said. “If you put up any resistance at all…”
She finished the sentence for him. “If I put up any resistance at all, I feel like a complete selfish bitch.”
“Well, you’re not,” Keller said.
“Aren’t I?” she said, her voice bitter. “They’re his sons, Jack. He’s got every right to want to see them grow up. To see them grow up safe. And I’m supposed to stand in the way of that because I’m worried that I won’t be able to hack it? That I’ll be a lousy stepmother to them? Or that I just won’t be able to stand having teenage boys around my apartment?” There was another silence before she spoke again. “You know the last thing my husband said to me before he shot himself?” She paused, took a deep breath. “I was lying there on the rug, both legs broken, the house beginning to burn down around me. He dropped that fucking baseball bat he’d just beaten me bloody with and pulled out his gun. I thought he was going to shoot me. I was praying he’d shoot me so I wouldn’t have to burn to death. Instead, he looked at me and said, ‘None of this would have happened if you’d just agreed to have kids.’ ” She slammed her hand down on the counter. It made a sound like a gunshot in the silence. “Like I was going to bring a child into a house with that psychopath. I couldn’t protect myself. How was I going to protect—” She stopped, drew a deep shuddering breath as she got herself under control.
Keller got out of his chair. He knelt by hers and took her scarred hand in his. “You need to tell him this, Angela,” he said softly. “He needs to know how you feel. Because it’ll come out. Somehow. No one knows that better than me.”
She smiled down at him, ran her free hand through Keller’s hair before putting it on top of his hand. “Ahhh, Keller,” she said. “Why did I let you get away?” She let go and waved off the response. “Don’t answer that. I know why.” She smiled sadly. “And now it’s too late. We’ve got other people in our lives.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “And speaking of late,” she said, “you’d better get a move on if you’re going to make it to Fayetteville in time to see Marie.”
He stood up slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “But remember what I said.”
“I will,” she said. “I’ll talk to him.” She stood up. “Things easier between you two now?”
“A little,” Keller said. He didn’t elaborate.
“How’s her new business going?” she said.
“Picking up,” Keller replied. “She said she needed my help on something. I’ll call if I’m going to be gone long.”
“No worries,” Angela said. “Most of our clients have been pretty well behaved lately. Maybe it’s your reputation, since you’ve been on TV and all.”
He made a face. “Great. Thanks to TV, I have a reputation as a total wacko.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but damn few people want a total wacko like you coming after them. Hey, you use what you’ve got.” She gave Keller a kiss on the cheek. “Say hey to Marie for me.”
Keller pulled the Crown Victoria into one of the angled parking spaces along Hay Street. The broad sidewalks near the Cumberland County Courthouse were lined with older buildings. The Hay Street area had been populated with strip clubs and streetwalkers catering to horny soldiers far from home for the first time until a city cleanup program in the 1980s closed the venerable fleshpots like Rick’s Lounge and the Seven Dwarfs. But that didn’t eradicate vice in Fayetteville so much as relocate it. The strip joints had moved out to Bragg Boulevard and turned into upscale “gentleman’s clubs.” The hookers had moved indoors and into the Yellow Pages, where they euphemistically called themselves escorts. Now Hay Street was more friendly to “legitimate” business, but those businesses seemed slow to get the word. Some of the storefronts were deserted, but various civic organizations had brightened them up with brightly colored designs painted on the empty windows. Other storefronts held small law offices, clothing stores offering “urban wear,” and a pair of hair and nail salons.
Keller got out of the car. He stopped in front of another storefront. The lettering on this front window read JONES INVESTIGATONS. A bell attached to the door rang as Keller entered.
There was
