A Note From an Old Acquaintance (35 page)

Mosley led the way toward a set of double doors at the end of the hall. When they drew closer, Brian saw the name affixed to the polished mahogany in three-inch brass Art Deco-style letters: ERIK RUBY.

Mosley opened the door and motioned Brian inside. Somehow, even knowing Ruby and his expensive tastes did nothing to prepare him for the majesty of the space, at least two thousand square feet of ultra-modern luxury with two adjacent walls of floor to ceiling plate glass. The only object that was no surprise was Joanna’s life-size portrait dominating the wall opposite the desk. The chair behind the desk was empty.

“So, where is he?” Brian asked.

Mosley had gone directly to the wet bar and poured two tumblers of single-malt scotch. He handed one to Brian. “I believe he’s showing young Zack around. He’ll be here soon enough.”

Brian sipped the scotch. “Just like death and taxes.”

The blue lights began flashing just as Joanna turned onto State Street. Erik’s building stood a mere five hundred feet ahead.

“Not now!” she said, easing the Volvo over to the curb. The police cruiser pulled up about twenty feet behind her and stopped. She tried looking in the rearview, but the cop had his brights on, which made seeing anything behind her impossible.

“Creep.”

It was a full minute before she heard the cruiser’s doors open, followed by a burst of radio static. She grabbed her handbag, rummaging for her wallet. The knock at her window, a sharp rapping sound, startled her. She looked up and a flashlight snapped on, blinding her.

“Please roll down your window, Ma’am,” the officer said.

She pushed the button for the window and it slid down. A blast of icy air blew into the car, making her shiver.

“License and registration, please.”

She handed them over. “What did I do, officer?”

The cop didn’t answer. She forced herself to relax. After all, her husband was right down the street. He would keep for another few minutes.

Brian went to the window and looked out over the view of Government Center and Beacon Hill. Beyond that, due west, was Newton. And from here Charlestown was a mere stone’s throw. A man could get used to a view like this. Problem was, a view like this might give one delusions of grandeur. Make one think he was above it all, like—

“Mr. Weller, welcome to Ruby Plaza.”

Startled, Brian turned to see Ruby and Zack standing in the doorway. The older man had his arm around the boy, who looked happy and relaxed.

Ruby patted his son on the back and moved toward the bar, where Mosley had a scotch waiting for him. Zack smiled and nodded to Brian then sat down on one of the spindly leather and steel chairs, picked up an
Architectural Digest
off the glass coffee table and began flipping through it.

“So, Mr. Weller, it would seem that old problems don’t stay solved,” Ruby said, moving from the bar to the chair behind his desk. He sat down heavily and regarded Brian with a hooded gaze.

He’s already a few sheets to the wind, Brian thought.

“What is it going to take to make you go away for good?” Ruby asked.

The scotch had given Brian a pleasant buzz, it also made him feel bolder and more reckless than he might have felt otherwise. “How about single-shot black powder pistols at twenty paces?” he asked.

Ruby chortled. “Tempting, but I was thinking of something a bit more prosaic.”

“It always comes down to money for you, doesn’t it, Ruby? Every man has his price.”

“Of course,” Ruby grinned, draining the whiskey. He held up the empty tumbler. “Mosley, a little more of this, if you please.”

The black man brought over the bottle of Macallan and poured a couple of jigger’s worth into Ruby’s tumbler. When he turned, Mosley gave Brian a look, as if to say, “Watch yourself.”

“So, what is it going to take?” Ruby asked again.

“Let’s just say my price is a bit steeper than it used to be. I don’t think even
you
can afford it.”

“DON’T FUCK WITH ME, WELLER!”

Brian heard the magazine Zack was holding hit the floor with a loud slap. He glanced toward the boy, who stared at his father with saucer eyes. Mosley, still standing by the bar, had gone rigid, looking very much like the department store mannequin he resembled.

Ruby leaned forward in his chair, the springs squeaking in the silence following his outburst. His face had a blotchy appearance, but it was the blazing eyes that gave Brian pause. They were the eyes of a man poised on the edge of sanity.

“Please sign here, Ma’am,” the cop said, handing her the ticket book. She scrawled her name and handed it back. He tore off the original and handed it to her, keeping the carbon in his book. “Your court date and notice to appear are at the bottom. Failure to appear will result in suspension of your license. Is everything clear, Ma’am?”

Joanna nodded. “Yes, officer.”

“Very good, Ma’am. And please try and remember to come to a complete stop before making a right turn.”

She waited until the officer returned to his cruiser and drove away before she pulled away from the curb, gunning the Volvo. She covered the last five hundred feet to Erik’s building in seconds. The tires screeched when she made the left and headed down into the underground parking, the SUV’s suspension jouncing as it rolled over a speed bump. She skidded to a stop in front of the elevators, tumbled out of the car at a dead run, clutching the file against her chest. Her finger jabbed the elevator call button.

She scanned the floor indicators, noting that all of the elevators were at the top. One started moving. The numbers descended with agonizing slowness.

“Hurry up, hurry up,” she muttered.

Moments later the elevator at the far end slid open and she dashed into it, hitting the button for the top floor. She watched the floor indicators with mounting dread. Until this moment, the confrontation with her husband had seemed inevitable, her anger like a force of nature. But now, as the floors ticked off one by one, her unease grew, doubts assailed her. She re-opened the file and stared at the agreement again, her eyes riveting on Brian’s and her husband’s signatures. The doubts became fleeting shadows. Her anger returned....

“Why did you come back, anyway?” Ruby asked, his anger ebbing to a low simmer. “You gave me your word.”

Brian didn’t know what to say. In practical, concrete terms Ruby was right. He
had
given his word; but how do you explain fifteen years of regret? How do you explain the pain and guilt from two broken hearts?

“You wouldn’t understand,” Brian said.

“Try me.”

Brian met Ruby’s gaze. “I came back because my life had reached the point where I didn’t know if I could go on any longer. Because I’ve been in love with Joanna for nearly half my life, and because our ‘deal,’ as you put it, was entered into under what I would delicately call ‘dubious circumstances.’”

Ruby’s laugh held no humor. “You certainly took the money quick enough, didn’t you? As for the contract, my attorneys will tell me it’s ironclad, and you’ve breached it.”

“Fine, you want the money back? No problem. I’ll have twice the original amount wired into your account tomorrow. Will that make you happy?”

Ruby shot to his feet, slapping the desk with the flat of his palm. “It’s not the money, punk, it’s Joanna! You were never supposed to see her again. Ever! THAT was the damned deal!” Ruby knocked back the rest of his scotch and slammed the tumbler down onto his desk, his eyes locked on Brian. “Look at you, the hotshot writer with your fancy words. You filled my wife’s head with them fifteen years ago, now you’re doing the same thing with my boy.”

“No, he’s not, Dad.”

Ruby silenced the boy with a glare and moved out from behind the desk. “I want you to leave them both the hell alone.”

“You seem to be forgetting something,” Brian said. “Joanna contacted
me
.”

Ruby sneered. “Yeah, I know all about that. But nobody told you to reply, did they? And nobody told you to get on a plane and fly three thousand miles to make whoopee,
did they
?” He moved closer to Brian, his expression oozing contempt. “And what kind of man are you, anyway? Out chasing skirts, declaring your undying love for another man’s wife, when your wife’s corpse is barely fucking cold. Just what the hell kind of goddamned low-life are you?”

There was no conscious decision to move on Brian’s part. One moment, he was sitting there, listening to Ruby’s bitter invective and the next he was on his feet, his hands wrapped around the older man’s throat.

“MR. WELLER! DAD! NO!” Zack screamed.

Like a flash of black lightning, Mosley was between them, pushing Brian back. “Take it easy,” he said in a low voice. “He’s not worth it.”

Brian’s eyes were still locked onto Ruby’s, but at the sound of Mosley’s gentle, insistent voice, the anger left him. “You’re right, he’s not,” Brian replied, backing off. Ruby rubbed his throat, but the smile of contempt had grown wider and Brian felt his anger rising again. “You know, Ruby, I can understand why you said what you said. Maybe, I would have said the same thing. But what I don’t understand is why Joanna’s stayed with you all these years. What did she see in you?”

“Why don’t you let
me
answer that?”