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Authors: Jason Pinter

BOOK: Parker 05 - The Darkness
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plenty of guys who did everything right: held the door

open for her, pulled her chair out at dinner, chewed with

their mouth closed. But these men were nothing but

painters, carpenters, covering up holes in the frame with

pretty wallpaper or a fresh coat of paint. Eventually the

hole would reveal the truth, and the facade would crumble. With Henry there was none of that. He wore his holes

proudly.

Still, she wondered when they might take the next step.

Amanda was never one of those girls who dreamed about

her wedding when she was six. She didn't name her unborn

children, or buy
Modern Bride
magazine. If love came, she

would deal with it then. For years, love to Amanda was like

taxes. You only thought about it when you had to.

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153

Yet Henry had changed that. Every so often she would

think about what he would look like in a tuxedo, and

thought about who would be her maid of honor. She caught

herself smiling at things she once found cheesy, and more

than once had felt that terror-and joy-filled moment of anticipation when she thought he might pop the question.

Yet she didn't want to rush him. Or rush herself. She

wasn't sure if she was ready to commit, and wanted to

make that decision when the time came.

Still, it felt nice to think about it. If only once in a while.

Amanda heard someone jiggling the doorknob. She

stood up, glass in hand, and watched as Henry entered the

apartment. His sport jacket was rumpled, slacks dirty

around the cuffs. There seemed to be some sort of dirt or

substance, something gray and ashy on his lapels. He saw

her and smiled, and that was enough to make her smile, too.

"Hey, hon," he said, dropping his briefcase on the floor

and joining her. She felt his arms wrap around her, and

she hugged him back. "You smell like tannins."

She held up the glass of Pinot. "Got started early. That

kind of day, you know?"

"Do I know." He went into the kitchen and took out a

glass. Not a wine goblet, but a regular drinking glass.

Then he went over to the dining room table where she'd

put a stopper in the open bottle. He wrenched out the plug

and filled his glass up nearly three-quarters of the way.

Then Amanda watched in both horror and admiration as

he downed the entire thing in one gulp. But when he

went back for a refill, that's when she stepped in and took

the bottle.

"Let's talk first," she said. "That first glass was enough

to knock you out."

He looked at her, then back at the bottle, debating

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Jason Pinter

whether it was worth arguing over. Eventually he nodded

and went over to the couch, plopping down and emitting

a deep sigh as he plunged his head into the soft leather.

"So," he said, his eyeballs straining to see her from his

position. "Tell me about your day."

"The Morgansterns were in today. They've been trying

to keep custody of their adopted daughter for the past few

months. The birth mother was a crack addict, and her

daughter was taken away from her after she left her in an

alley wrapped in newspaper. Apparently the mother

managed to clean herself up, get a job, and most importantly marry a man with enough money to make a go at

challenging for custody. It's going to be long and it's

going to be ugly."

"Do you think you can win?" Henry asked.

"I hope so. The adoptive parents deserve to keep the

girl. The mother...she might have cleaned up, but there

are certain people who you know aren't good parents. I've

met her twice, and neither time did she look me in the eye.

Her husband does all the talking. She stands there, hands

folded across her lap, like she's almost embarrassed."

"You think he's pressuring her to try and get the

daughter back."

"That's what I think."

"Yeah," Henry said. "You're gonna win."

Amanda smiled. Moved over to Henry, clasped his

hand, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Thanks, babe," Amanda said, moving back to talking

distance. "So how was your day? Any good stories? Jack

keeping you on your toes?"

Henry looked at her, and immediately Amanda felt a

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155

sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her smile disappeared. She'd seen that look before.

"There was an explosion today, on Park Avenue. An

apartment..."

"Some lawyer, right?"

"That's right. Brett Kaiser."

"I saw that on the news. Terrible. The police are saying

they think somebody murdered him."

Henry looked at her. "I was there."

Amanda recoiled slightly. "Wait, what?" she said, incredulous. "What do you mean you were there? Like,

when the news crews came after the explosion?"

"I mean I was at the explosion. At Brett Kaiser's apartment building. Kaiser was tied into the story Jack and I

have been chasing, and I was at his building trying to get

some comments from him. When he left me, he went

upstairs to his apartment, and a minute or two later everything just erupted."

"Oh my God," Amanda said. She held her hands to her

heart, her mouth hanging open, dry. "Oh my God, Henry,

are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said. "A little ringing in my ears, but it's

going away."

"You were...there?" she said. He didn't say anything.

Then Amanda wiped at his lapel, her hand coming away

with gray dust. "Is this..."

"Christ," Henry said, jerking up and going into the

bathroom. She heard the water running, and a few minutes later Henry came back out wearing shorts and a

T-shirt. Normally she'd make some sort of suggestive

comment about how he looked in shorts, but her mind

couldn't even fathom levity right now. "Sorry about that.

I didn't even realize it."

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Jason Pinter

Then Henry actually laughed a little bit. Amanda

wanted to join him, but her mouth wouldn't work. "Hey,

baby, you okay?"

Amanda shook her head. She felt her face grow hot,

her eyes beginning to water. No, she told herself. She

refused to cry. This was what their relationship was. This

was what Henry was.

She couldn't protect him. Not right now. Maybe not

ever. If he'd been closer to the explosion...if Kaiser had

invited Henry upstairs for an interview...if a chunk of

brick or concrete had come down at the right angle...he

wouldn't be here right now.

Amanda stood up. She went over to the table, picked

up the wine and took a swig right from the bottle.

When she put it back down and wiped her mouth, she

heard Henry whistle from the couch. "That must have

felt good."

Amanda shook her head. "No. Not really."

"I understand," he said. "I didn't mean to joke about

it. I know what you must be thinking. I'm fine. Not hurt

one bit. They weren't trying to hurt me. Wrong place at

the wrong time."

"Always seems to be that way," Amanda said, feeling

the wine warming her body, her mind going fuzzy. It felt

good, and she didn't try to stop it.

"You know I don't mean for things like this to happen,"

Henry said. He walked up behind her, put his arms around

her waist, leaned in close. She felt her eyes close,

breathed him in, brought her arms around his and held

him tight. She felt his breath on her neck, taking her

away. "I love you, and I also want to be the best at my

job I can possibly be. I'm not scared of chasing stories

like this. Maybe I should be, but I'm not. I've been

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157

through enough the past few years, a lot of it with you,

to the point where I know this is what I'm meant to do."

"I know it is," Amanda said. "I'm not sure if I wish it

wasn't, but I know that's what you are and what you do.

And I'm proud of you. I just...you don't know what it's

like to hear the person you love say things like that."

"No, I don't," he said. "And God willing, I'll never

have to."

"I hope not either." She turned around. Kissed him long

and hard. "So, at least tell me this. Did you get anything?"

Henry unwrapped his arms from her and went back to

the couch. He sat down, and she joined him. Henry

scratched his head. She could tell he'd learned something, and was troubled by it.

"I got a call today. From someone I wasn't really expecting to hear from, like, ever."

"Your dad," Amanda guessed.

"No," Henry said, somewhat relieved. "But you're

close. Paulina Cole."

"No freaking way," she said. "Why the hell would that

bitch call you?"

"Something happened to her. Recently. Someone kidnapped her, threatened to kill her daughter."

"Oh God," Amanda said. "What happened?"

"The guy let her go, but asked her to do some sort of

favor for him. She wouldn't tell me what she had to do."

"Was it," Amanda said, grimacing, "sexual?"

"I didn't get that feeling. But she wants to find out who

this guy is, but can't go to the cops. My guess is she thinks

this guy is connected. And maybe he is."

"So she came to you," Amanda said.

"She told me if I found the guy, I could have whatever

story there was."

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Jason Pinter

"If there is one. If this guy isn't just some loon who

took umbrage with one of her scorch-the-earth columns."

"I get the feeling it was more serious than that. One

thing I know about Paulina Cole, she doesn't scare easily.

This guy was serious, and he scared her so bad that she

won't go to the cops and came to me. I have access to the

cops she doesn't. And I can investigate without drawing

attention, because if this guy does have a mole in the

NYPD he wouldn't expect anything from my end. They're

watching her. Not me."

"But if they find out that someone is asking questions

about this guy, it won't matter who it comes from."

"Curt," Henry said. "I can trust Curt."

"Maybe," Amanda said. "But who can he trust?"

Henry didn't seem like he could answer that, so he just

leaned back. "I don't know."

"Don't you think you might be putting him in danger?"

Amanda said.

"When I talk to him," Henry said, "I'll tell him everything. Including that we think they might have people

inside the PD. Curt is smart. If there's information to get,

he can get it without drawing suspicion."

"And how do you know he'll do it?"

Henry looked at her, his eyes full of confidence.

"Because Curt is like me."

"Yeah," she said. "I suppose he is. What are you going

to tell Jack?"

Henry sighed. Looked back over at the table. Stared

at the bottle of wine, debating pouring another glass. As

much as she enjoyed watching him pass out, watching

him breathe as he slept, she was kind of hoping he'd be

in the mood to fool around a little.

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159

"That's a little more complicated." He looked at her.

"I can't tell him."

"About Paulina?"

Henry nodded. "I have to cue Jack in on the lead, but

if he finds out I got it from Paulina, that I'd even spoken

to the woman who tried to ruin his career...he'd never

speak to me again. Plus Jack deserves better."

"From who?" Amanda asked.

"From me. I don't really know. But the bottom line is

that he doesn't need to know. Not right now. If we catch

this guy, it's old news. But for now...I can't do that to him."

"You know him better," Amanda said. "If you think it's

the right thing to do, then trust your judgment. But at some

point you need to tell him, because he'll eventually find out."

"I know and I will. But now's not that time. We're

getting close on this story, and I still need to know who

was really responsible for my brother's death. Somehow

this all connects with the Fury."

"So you
do
believe this boogeyman exists."

"I think there's someone who knew about the plans to

kill my brother before anyone else, and maybe even

pulled the strings. Stephen was working for some sort of

cartel, and in every organization, legitimate or not, there's

someone at the top of the ladder."

"You think that might be this guy?"

Henry shook his head. "The CEOs never get their hands

dirty. They have people below them to do that for them. If

this person does exist, he's been able to hide in the shadows

because he didn't take stupid risks. The blond guy is acting

on this person's behalf. So even if he's not the gold at the

end of the rainbow, he knows where the pot is located."

"So what are you then, some sort of freaky ass leprechaun?"

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Jason Pinter

Henry laughed. "Got me the luck of the Irish."

"You're not Irish," Amanda replied.

"Yeah, but Jack is. I knew he was back for a reason."

"Come to bed. I hear leprechauns are lucky."

"Are lucky, or get lucky?"

Amanda stood up. Pulled her shirt over her head.

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