Asking For Trouble (13 page)

Rodriguez narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust lawyers.”

“You can trust him.”

Rodriguez said nothing for a long moment before storming off like a bad weather front.

“I just hope your lawyer can convince him,” Benton said.

Milligan nodded. That had been his fear too. That Rodriguez wouldn’t believe Macarthur even with a boatload of evidence. But there was nothing he could do now. He’d put the wheels in motion. His life depended on how open-minded Rodriguez could be. With the pain of his daughter’s death blinding the inmate, Milligan didn’t fancy his chances.

Instead of hiding from Rodriguez, Milligan didn’t let him out of his sight. He wanted to make damn sure Macarthur wasn’t late, but the lawyer was true to his word, and precisely at ten o’clock, a guard approached Rodriguez.

“Looks like your lawyer’s here,” Benton said as the guard escorted the Hispanic away. “You’re free and clear, my friend.”

“We’ll see.”

Rodriguez didn’t emerge for an hour, and when he did, he ignored Milligan. He simply rejoined his homeboys and went about his life, never once sending a glance Milligan’s way. This wasn’t how Milligan had expected him to end things. He’d expected some sort of closure, even if it was laced with a threat along the lines of, “You’re cool, but don’t let me ever hear of you going near a child. You got me?”

But nothing. That left him on edge. Maybe this was how Rodriguez did things.

“Looks like a deal has been struck,” Benton commented and patted Milligan on the back.

Milligan went to his shop class and let his fears bleed away as he crafted gifts for the prison gift shop. It always seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to make trinkets for the tourists who came to the prison for kicks. He crossed the yard back to his cellblock.

He didn’t notice one of Rodriguez’s wingmen creeping up on him until something sharp pressed against his kidneys. He didn’t have to be told that Rodriguez hadn’t believed Macarthur. He had to hand it to Rodriguez. The dude was cold. Milligan hadn’t seen this move coming, and neither had the guards, which was probably the reason why Rodriguez hadn’t shown any interest in him. Let everyone think the beef was settled.

Milligan let the prisoner guide him to the abandoned guard box between death row and a cellblock. The guard box provided a blind spot the surveillance cameras couldn’t penetrate. Rodriguez was waiting. He snatched Milligan when he was within arm’s reach and slammed him against the wall.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, man.”

“I didn’t. My lawyer proved to you that I was telling the truth.”

Rodriguez’s features boiled with anger. He reached a hand into his pocket and produced a sheet of paper and smacked it against Milligan’s chest. Milligan took the paper and opened it up. He scanned the words and couldn’t believe what he read.

“She was six,” Rodriguez said.

And that was exactly what it said on the sheet torn from a legal pad in Milligan’s hands. “That’s a lie.”

“Don’t lie. My lawyer told me everything.”

“Your lawyer? You should have spoken to my lawyer, Charles Macarthur.”

“Charles Macarthur is my lawyer.”

The pieces fell into place. Milligan knew who had fed Rodriguez the lies—Macarthur. The lawyer wanted paying, and there was only one way Milligan could pay—with his life. His life insurance company would write the check.

“Macarthur told me to tell you something.” Rodriguez produced a shiv. “This is payback. Account paid in full.”

“S
ee you later.” Nick kissed Melanie good-bye and watched her walk away. The lunchtime throng on Market Street swallowed her up, but the crowd parted at different times to expose glimpses of an arm, a leg, a shoulder.

He couldn’t get enough of her. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind. It was more than just an infatuation—he felt a connection with her on every level possible. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about marriage, though he didn’t want to share that with her until he was sure she felt the same way. If things carried on the way they were going, he’d test the waters, maybe whisk her off to somewhere romantic and let the moment sweep both of them away.

A friendly voice called his name. Instinctively, he turned.

The man looked familiar and at the same time, not. He was tall, blond, and well attired. His suit certainly hadn’t come off the rack.

“Nick Forbes, yes?” The man put out a hand.

“Yes.” Nick took it and shook. “Do I know you?”

“Sort of. I’m Melanie’s brother, Jamie.”

Now Nick saw the resemblance. Melanie had mentioned a brother, but they’d never met.

“If you’re looking for Mel, she’s just gone.” He pointed in the direction of the Wells Fargo building.

“I came to see you, not Melanie.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I understand you and Melanie have become close.”

“There’s no ‘become’ about it. We are close.”

“Please let me finish.”

People brushed by them, so eager to get on with their own lives that they paid scant regard to this encounter. It was as if the two men had fallen off the edge of the world.

“Your relationship with my sister is a problem.” The smile went out of Jamie’s eyes. A frost replaced the warmth.

Who does this son of bitch think he is?
Nick thought. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. You have to stop seeing her.”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you have no right to tell me or Melanie how to live our lives.”

“Yes, I do.” Jamie pressed his fingers into Nick’s chest. “Stay away from her or there will be trouble.”

Nick knocked Jamie’s hand aside. “Is that a threat?”

“Don’t get all knightly on me. Save your shining armor for another day. Just do as I tell you and you won’t get hurt.”

“Now that is a threat.”

Jamie shrugged the response away like he’d heard it all before. “I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Just do as I say. It’s not a threat. It’s a warning. Break it off with Melanie before it’s too late.” Jamie walked by Nick and let the current of people sweep him away. “I’ll be watching.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick called out to Jamie’s retreating form.

People gawked, but Jamie didn’t answer.

***

Nick picked up Melanie at her condo the next night. He wanted to mention Jamie’s reprehensible scene but couldn’t do it. From what she’d mentioned about him, they were close. Very close. Telling her about what had happened yesterday might force her to choose sides.

While he waited for Melanie to finish changing, Nick tried to make sense of what had happened. The guy was just trying to protect his sister. That was understandable. His outburst would have been almost admirable if it hadn’t been excessive and totally uncalled for. There was no way Nick could tell Melanie about it. She took his arm and led him to the elevator.

Nick had reservations at her favorite restaurant in the city, a French place called The Fifth Floor. He had planned on taking her to a Greek place he liked on Battery, but he’d switched at the last minute. The reason—privacy. The Fifth Floor was secluded and somewhat exclusive. If Jamie wanted to create a scene, he’d have a hard job doing it.

During the drive, Nick’s animal instincts kicked in. He sensed a car was tailing him. He looked in the rearview. An Acura was behind him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this feeling. For the past couple of weeks, he would have sworn he’d seen the same car outside his
home, at the gym, and parked across from his job. If it wasn’t a car, it was someone following him on foot. He’d put it down to paranoia, but after Jamie’s warning, he wasn’t so sure.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Melanie said.

He dragged his gaze away from the Acura. “Just a little distracted is all. Sorry.”

She smiled at him. “Well, don’t be. You’re with me tonight. I demand attention.”

He laughed. “Yes, my queen.”

“That’s more like it.”

He looked back in his rearview. The Acura was gone.

***

The hostess showed them to a corner table. Nick took the seat that gave him the best view of the bar leading into the dining area. If Jamie planned any sort of confrontation, Nick would see him coming.

They ordered. Melanie chatted and Nick struggled to concentrate on what she said. She called him on it a couple of times, and he apologized, promising to do better. He expected Jamie to appear at any moment, but he didn’t show. By the time the entrées were served, Nick felt this wasn’t the night Jamie would choose to make his scene. When the tension lifted clarity seeped in.

How did he know he’d really been accosted by Melanie’s brother and not by some jealous ex-boyfriend? Melanie had mentioned she hadn’t had much luck in the relationship department over the years. The men she bared her soul to always ran out on her. Was it possible these men might not have run out, but have been helped on their way?

“You’ve mentioned your brother, Jamie, but you’ve never told me much about him.”

“He’s a great guy. I’m sure you two would really like each other. He’s older than me by a couple of years and of course that makes him my protector. He’s always looking out for me. I don’t know what he wouldn’t do for me,” she enthused.

This description matched the guy Nick had met yesterday, but that still didn’t mean anything.

“Have you got a picture of him?”

“Of course. I’m surprised I haven’t shown it to you before now.”

Melanie fished in her purse and removed a photo from her pocketbook. Nick took the picture and examined it, and his theory went up in smoke. The Jamie in the picture was the Jamie on Market Street. Nick squeezed out a polite smile and handed the picture back.

“He looks how I expected him to look.”

“The three of us should go out together.”

“I’d like that,” Nick said and meant it. It would be a good opportunity to show this guy how happy he made his sister. If that didn’t work, he doubted Jamie could keep a lid on his jealousy, and he’d expose himself for the person he really was. Either way, it’d be a win-win for Nick. “Jamie doesn’t have to play third wheel. He should bring his girlfriend. Make it a double date. I haven’t double dated in years.”

“Jamie doesn’t have a girlfriend. I don’t know why.”

I do
, Nick thought. “Maybe he doesn’t put himself out there,” he suggested.

They skipped dessert and hooked up with some friends at a club but left early to go back to Melanie’s condo. They fooled around, and Melanie wanted him to spend the night, but he couldn’t get Jamie off his mind. He went home, his head full of Jamie. Goddamn the guy for thinking he could destroy his relationship with Melanie. Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it. Jamie’s threatening ways might have worked with Melanie’s past boyfriends, but they wouldn’t with him. His blood was up when he went to bed, but it turned icy cold when he picked up the newspaper off his stoop the following morning. The
Chronicle
had been turned to the third page. The headline read: M
AN
K
ILLED IN
S
ENSELESS
M
UGGING
.

***

It took Nick a minute to realize the newspaper wasn’t current, but six months old. The story detailed the botched mugging. A Wells Fargo employee, Miles Talbot, twenty-six, had been returning home after a night out in the city. He’d been stabbed repeatedly on the Embarcadero, and his wallet and valuables had been taken. His body had been dragged from the main thoroughfare and dumped under the archway of Pier 26. After Nick read the story, a vague recollection of the incident filtered through. The cops had never found the person responsible.

There were no prizes for guessing who’d left this piece of San Francisco history for him. It was a cheap and tactless attempt to intimidate him. It was also vague. Was Jamie saying that if he didn’t stop seeing his sister, he’d end up in the same condition? Christ, it was as pathetic as it was infuriating. Nick went to toss the newspaper in the trash, but a second thought struck him. He’d taken the news story for a veiled threat. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Talbot’s murder was an example of what happened to Melanie’s boyfriends who didn’t take a hint. The strength went out of his legs, and he flopped into a chair at his kitchen table.

Had Melanie’s brother killed this guy? It seemed incredible that he would resort to that. Nick couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but an itch at the back of his skull believed it was not only possible, but true. There was only one way to find out.

He googled Miles Talbot’s murder. The hits revealed various incarnations of the story he’d read in the
Chronicle
. There were a few more column inches dedicated to announcing when the investigation went cold. None of the hits revealed the one fact Nick looked for—the name of a girlfriend. He called Wells Fargo and asked for Talbot’s extension. He received the expected awkward silence before the switchboard operator said, “I’ll transfer you. Hold one moment.”

Nick was connected to Julia Chastain in the Private Clients Department, who spoke in a hushed tone. “You wanted to speak to Miles Talbot?”

“Yes. Is he there?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll leave a message.”

“You don’t know, then.”

“Know what?”

Julia gave him the CliffsNotes version. He acted suitably shocked and tossed in the factoid that he’d been an old college buddy of Talbot’s, which took him closer into her confidence.

“How did his girlfriend take it?”

“Melanie Lassen? I don’t know. I imagine she took it hard. Do you know her?”

Nick sagged under the weight of the confirmation. It was as if his flesh couldn’t support the immense weight of his bones. It was an effort to speak, but he forced the words out. “Yeah, I know her.”

Julia said something, but he wasn’t listening anymore. He thanked her and hung up.

The guys in his office wanted to hit Gordon Biersch for lunch. He possessed the desire to drink, but not the thirst. He hit the streets instead. He stood in line at a SUBWAY but walked away before his turn came. He was wandering along Spear Street when a voice interrupted him from his thoughts.