Brutality (42 page)

There was movement at the end of the room with the stage. Fina turned her chair so she could see better and swiped a couple of fries from a serving dish. After a few minutes, three guys took the stage and kicked off a thirty-minute set. It was a mix of folk, country, and rockabilly, and though she wouldn’t download the album, it was pleasing enough to listen to. Not that Fina was really listening; she was mostly scanning the crowd and keeping her eye on the door in hopes that Jamie would show.

She and Matthew took turns hitting the bathroom during the band’s break. As Fina weaved her way through the crowd, she noticed Marshall checking her out. Fina pretended that she didn’t notice and hoped his seeming interest wouldn’t put a damper on her investigation.

Back at the table, Matthew had ordered coconut macaroons and a rhubarb tart.

“No chocolate?” Fina asked.

“‘Thank you’ would be nice, but I forgot who I’m with,” he said, flagging down the waitress. “Do you have anything chocolate for my sister?” he asked the woman. She left, promising to return with milk chocolate panna cotta.

Fina leaned over toward Matthew. “I’m not your sister tonight, remember?”

Matthew rolled his eyes.

“You would suck at undercover work,” she said, grinning.

Before he could respond, the band returned and launched into another set.

The panna cotta arrived and was quickly consumed. Fina and Matthew were contemplating calling it a night when something caught Fina’s eye at the side of the stage. There were two men, their heads bent in conversation. The hair on one of them looked familiar, and when he raised his head, Fina could see that it was Jamie.

“Yes,” she said, but not so quietly that Matthew didn’t hear her.

“Your guy?” he asked directly into her ear.

She nodded and watched the conversation for another minute. The second guy abruptly walked toward the door leading to the restrooms and disappeared. Thirty seconds later, Jamie followed him.

“I need you to go see what they’re doing,” Fina said to Matthew.

“What?” he asked over the din.

“Those guys. I’m interested in the one with longer hair. I need you to go see what they’re doing.”

Matthew looked annoyed. “You said this wasn’t dangerous.”

“It’s not. For all I know, they’re just peeing.”

“Oh, come on.” Matthew shifted in his seat.

“Now, Matthew,” Fina insisted. “It’s important.”

He tossed his napkin onto the table and pushed back his chair. “People are going to think I have bladder control issues,” he said.

“Well, you are nearing that age,” Fina said, then ducked from his swatting hand.

She watched him thread his way through the crowd and pass through the same doorway as Jamie and the mystery man.

Fina watched the door and finished her wine.

Five minutes after he’d left, Matthew made his way back to her. He pulled out his wallet and threw a wad of cash on the table.

“Let’s go,” Matthew said.

“That bad?” Fina asked, grabbing her coat and standing.

He started to push her in the direction of the door.

“Did you leave enough money?” she asked. “Wait, I need a receipt!”

“For Christ’s sake, Fina. Come on.” He glanced toward the door to the restrooms, and Fina followed his gaze. The mystery man was scanning the room, an angry expression contorting his face.

Fina picked up the pace and ducked through the velvet curtain hanging between the room and the front door. Presumably, it tempered the frigid air that blew in with every entry and exit, but it also provided an abracadabra feel to the moment. She pushed the door open, and Matthew followed on her heels. He took hold of Fina’s elbow and steered her around the corner toward the parking lot.

“What did you do?” Fina asked. “Am I going to have to shoot somebody?”

“Just get in,” her brother said, unlocking his car with a tweet of his keys.

He started up the luxury sedan, and Fina flipped the switch to turn on the seat warmers. Everyone’s priorities were different.

“Unless someone is actually coming after us,” Fina said, “you should take a deep breath and calm down.”

Matthew rotated in his seat and looked behind the car. “I don’t see anyone.”

“I’d say you and Scotty are like a pair of little girls, but that would be an insult to little girls,” Fina said. “They’re braver than you two are.”

“Those two guys didn’t go into the bathroom,” Matthew said.

“Okay.”

“They went down the hall to a back room and were doing a drug deal.”

“So why’d we have to flee?” Fina asked.

“Because I walked in, and the guy got pissed. He threatened me.”

Fina considered the scenario for a moment. “Who was the buyer and who was the seller?”

“Your guy was the buyer.”

“Did you see what was for sale?” she asked. “Weed? Pills? Powder?”

“Pills. A little plastic Baggie of white pills. What do you think it was?”

Fina thought for a moment. “I don’t know: ecstasy, amphetamine, oxy. Did you get a good look at the pills?”

Matthew shook his head. “No. At that point the guy was already threatening me. I can hold my own in a fight, but I’m an officer of the court. I can’t be anywhere near a drug deal.”

“You were right to hightail it out of there,” Fina said. “I honestly didn’t know that’s what was going on.”

Matthew looked at her dubiously. “What were the other options?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was hooking up with the guy or buying a gun. Maybe they’re in a book club together and were exchanging this month’s selection.”

“I’m glad you never lose your sense of humor,” Matthew said sarcastically.

“Come on,” Fina said, punching him in the upper arm. “It’s kinda funny, and you’ve got to admit, a little exciting.” She grinned at him.

A hint of a smile appeared on Matthew’s face. “I’m not going to admit that.”

“Think what boring, sheltered lives you and Scotty would lead if not for me.”

He snorted and put the car into drive. “Where are you parked?”

Fina directed him to a nearby side street, where he stopped next to her car. She reached into her wallet and started to pull out some money.

“You don’t need to do that,” Matthew said.

“I don’t want to hear that I stiffed you on the bill in addition to putting you in danger,” Fina said.

“I’m not going to take your money. You’re my little sister. Until you find a man to take you off our hands, I’ll do my part.”

Fina made a gagging motion, then reached over and hugged him. “Thanks for dinner and the company. I had fun.”

“Let’s do it again,” Matthew said, “minus the dramatic exit.”

“Sounds good.”

Fina climbed out of his car and into her own. He waited until she gave him a thumbs-up, and then he took off down the street, most definitely exceeding the speed limit. Fina’s tactics allowed the rest of the Ludlows to pretend that they were simple, law-abiding folk, but that was a bunch of bull. Compared to your average family, they were a band of outlaws. Fina just offered a dramatic point of contrast.

She turned the heat up and glanced at the clock. It had been a long day, but it wasn’t over yet.

Jamie had some explaining to do.

—

F
ina sat in her car, her boots slipped off in the foot well. She pressed her feet close to the heater, hopeful that her running car wouldn’t raise any red flags. She was parked outside Liz and Jamie’s house, and it was late. A nosy neighbor might approach her or call the police, asking them to check out the unfamiliar car in front of the house where the neighbor was attacked. It would be an inconvenience having to explain herself, but Fina was willing to risk it.

She’d been sitting there for forty-five minutes when the Passat pulled into the driveway. Fina scrambled to pull her boots back on and get out of her car before he closed the front door behind him.

“Jamie,” she called out across the front yard. “We need to talk.”

He was startled to see her. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“I know, but it’s important.”

“I’m tired, Fina. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

She climbed the front stairs and stood next to him on the stoop. Fina reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She tapped on the flashlight app and shined the phone in his face.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m confirming that your pupils are dilated. Do you realize that if you’d been pulled over, you would be in deep shit?”

Jamie was putting his key in the lock when the door opened. Mrs. Sandraham stood there, her face a mask of disapproval.

“You’ll wake up the children,” she said.

“Sorry,” Jamie said meekly.

The woman pulled on her coat and walked cautiously down the dark path. She crossed the street to her own house and disappeared inside, the front light winking off.

Fina followed Jamie inside.

“Seriously, Jamie. One look at your pupils and a cop would haul you in for being under the influence.”

He took off his coat and shoes and deposited them on the floor. Fina trailed after him as he dropped onto the couch, rubbing his eyes.

“If you’re going to lecture me, please leave. I can’t deal with it,” he said.

Fina stared at him, incredulous. “I don’t even know where to start.”

He got back up as quickly as he’d sat down. “I’m heading to bed. You can let yourself out.”

“I should have realized it sooner,” she said. “The dizziness, the sweating. Wearing your sunglasses at inopportune times. I thought you were self-conscious about having bloodshot eyes from your grief.”

“My eyes were bloodshot from my grief,” he argued.

“Sure, and from your pill habit.” Fina took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to judge you. Addiction is a horrible disease, but you’ve got two little kids to think about. Have you considered going to rehab?”

“I don’t need to go to rehab,” Jamie said.

She tilted her head. “Given the frequency with which you’re buying drugs, I would disagree.”

“I only do it occasionally, to get me through the rough spots.”

“That’s not true. You’re buying every few days.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“I’m an investigator,” Fina said. “I find stuff out.” People always seemed surprised that she uncovered information. Was that because they assumed their secrets were safe or that she was completely incompetent?

Jamie started toward the stairs.

“Is this a long-standing issue or is it because of your knee?” Fina asked. It wasn’t uncommon for addicts to be introduced to pain pills for legitimate reasons, only to have their dependency spiral into full-on addiction.

“It’s my goddamn knee,” he said. “I stopped playing in clubs and ended up taking pills because my wife wanted me to be a triathlete. How’s that for irony?”

“It’s not unusual, if that makes you feel any better,” Fina said. “Lots of people who wouldn’t think of touching drugs under normal circumstances get sucked in trying to manage pain.”

“Well, my wife didn’t really understand that. Liz always played through her pain and expected everyone else to do the same.”

Fina looked down at her feet. She’d met people who suffered from chronic pain and knew that it could be unbearable. Pain pills offered relief, but introduced their own hazards.

“Maybe we could get together tomorrow and talk about this once you’ve had some sleep,” Fina suggested.

“There’s no point. I’m fine.”

“I can help. I have access to a lot of resources.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered.

Fina watched him disappear upstairs before she left through the front door.

Back in her car, she got on the road and tried to process this new piece of information. She’d made little progress by the time she pulled into her parking space at home.

Maybe a good night’s sleep would provide some clarity. Even if it didn’t, there was nothing more she could do tonight.

28.

Fina took a chance and showed up at Tasha and D’s house at six thirty the next morning. She was tired, but the diet soda in her drink holder would undoubtedly kick in before too long and she’d be raring to go.

The door was opened by the nanny Fina had met during her last visit. She brought Fina upstairs to the family room, where D was sitting on the couch, the baby on his lap with a bottle. The little girl, Lyla, was putting together a large wooden puzzle at her father’s feet.

“Fina,” D said. “Were we expecting you?”

“No. I’m dropping by completely uninvited with no warning. I apologize, but I really need to speak with Tasha, and I thought this was the best way to do that.”

“Your timing’s not great,” D said.

“I know, but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important.”

D glanced at his watch. “Tasha should be up in about ten minutes. She’s getting dressed. Have a seat.”

Fina sat down on the couch across from him and watched the baby drink greedily from his bottle. After a moment, the child pulled the nipple from his mouth and let out a burp that would have been at home in a frat house.

“Good Lord,” Fina said.

“That’s my boy,” D said, laughing.

“You must be very proud.”

“I am. There’s coffee if you want some,” he said, nodding in the direction of the fancy coffeemaker in the open kitchen.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Lyla started chattering about her puzzle, and Fina listened as D responded to his daughter’s questions. This was the part of parenting that Fina found most heroic: the endless conversations about nothing. She knew the interaction was vital to child development and all that, but she didn’t know how parents didn’t lose their minds in the infinite conversation loop of early childhood. It could certainly be utilized as a torture device by the CIA.

Fina asked D about work, and they chatted until Tasha came into the room dressed for the office with the exception of shoes. She placed her cell phone on the counter and did a double take when she caught sight of Fina.

“I’m surprised to see you this early, Fina,” Tasha said, like the smooth politician she would undoubtedly be. “I got the feeling you aren’t a morning person.”