The Losing Game (8 page)

Today was Thursday. Lucas had run last Thursday. Dante had watched him, stretching on his doorstep. Hamstrings, quads, calves. Lucas was flexible and lean. More than once, Dante had reached and touched the monitor screen, imagining how it might feel to run his fingers behind Lucas’s knees, up his inner thigh. He’d also wondered if that was a line crossed. If he had officially become not impartial observer, but stalker.

He refused to think so. After all, he deliberately hadn’t invaded Lucas’s home. The cameras were placed outside. He’d restricted his electronic observations to publicly posted information: Facebook (hardly used), Twitter (never used except to retweet, but the users he followed was telling) and a partially filled in LinkedIn profile.

Dante reluctantly returned to the shop. His customer was nowhere to be seen.

“Lois?”

She emerged from the back room. “Right here.”

“What happened to my cock-ring guy?”

“He bought the Sensor Vibrate, some lube, and a couple of candles. He left a minute ago.”

“How’s everything out here?”

“Quieting down. Go on. Go back to your boyfriend.”

Dante growled under his breath, closed the internal door to the shop, and returned to his desk. He got comfortable, ready for the hour ahead, toeing off his shoes and removing his tie. He hadn’t been away from the monitors long, but to be on the safe side, he rewound the feed on Lucas’s front door two minutes and replayed, double speed.

His heart jumped. He rewound again, played normal speed, paused. At 18:28, Lucas Green had left his house, wearing a peacoat, trousers, and boots. Dante scanned the other monitors.

“He went out three minutes ago.”

Lucas couldn’t have got far. Dante wheeled on his chair to his right, to the Roseport Island map he’d pinned to the wall. Radiating out from Lucas’s house, he jotted down the handful of locations that had cameras Lucas might cross. Most streets in Lucas’s neighborhood were not publicly surveilled. Lucas could easily walk all the way to Roseport Quay to the south and the bridge to the mainland in the north without his movement being recorded or, more importantly, broadcast.

Dante swung back to the desk and the monitors. He closed down the windows monitoring Shaw’s property and the surrounding streets. Opened new ones that might capture Lucas en route to his unknown destination.

Dante’s mouth went dry. He whispered, “Where are you?”

Without taking his eyes from the screen, he took off his suit jacket. Licked his lips. And wished he had a pair of eyes for each of the live feeds running in front of him.

Time slowed. It could only have been seconds later when Dante saw him. He exhaled. Relieved. He drew closer to his monitor as Lucas crossed the Roseport Road and stopped at the bus stop, due south. The field of view wasn’t very wide, but he was there, plain as day, standing in the bus shelter, under the lights.

Dante had a moment to requisition one of the laptops streaming Livecam feeds he didn’t currently need. He opened a search window and pulled up the local bus network website.

“Great. Only three possible routes. Now let’s see where you’re going.”

Roseport Island spanned ten miles north to south, eight miles east to west at the widest point. Lucas was headed south from Roseport’s northern end, and therefore staying on the island. Surely he wasn’t going to Shaw’s place? Not at six thirty in the evening. Not on a bus.

“
Dante
!”

Lois stood at the doorway.

“What?”

“I
said,
would you like a cup of tea?”

“No. Come here.” Dante lifted his laptop. “Get a chair. I need you to take this.”

“I can’t. Selena’s on her own.”

“Where’s Kit?”

“Showing someone how to wear a harness.”

Dante groaned. “Please. I need you to pull up all the Island bus routes. It’ll only take a minute.”

He heard her huff and, from the corner of his eye, saw her dragging over the wingback chair. He didn’t dare take his eyes from Lucas. A bus had pulled alongside the stop. Lucas was getting on.

Dante pointed to his monitor. “Lois? Was that a 505? To Roseport Quay?”

She took the laptop, leaning into Dante’s monitor as she sat. “Yes.”

“Route. Tell me where it stops.”

Lucas had taken a seat by the window, on the left of the bus. His blond hair and dark coat stood in sharp relief against the bland gray of the bus.

“It goes down the Roseport Road to Milton, then the quay.”

“No, I need all the stops.” Dante moved back to the map, where he could marry the bus route with camera locations. “Read them out.”

“I’ve got to go.”

Lois moved—Dante saw in his peripheral vision—and then there was the jaw-clenching clatter of toppling plastic, at her feet, under the desk.

“
What the hell
?”
Lois fell back onto the chair, bent down, and picked up one of the small black boxes. “What the hell are all these?”

“
Lois
. Where the fuck is this bus going?”

He regretted swearing instantly. He didn’t need to look. The taut, icy tone of her voice said everything. “Roseport Road, Milton Gardens, Milton, Roseport Station, Seafront, Old Roseport, Roseport Quay.”

Lois stood and thrust one of the toppled black boxes under Dante’s nose. “External hard drives. I’d say about twenty, thirty.”

“Saved camera footage.”

“All this? Are you insane?”

“Lois, please. I don’t want to lose him.”

“He’s going to Roseport Quay. He’s probably got a nice real-world boyfriend, and he’s going for a drink and something to eat. Like you should be doing.”

Dante grabbed the laptop from Lois’s hands. “It’s all right. I can do it myself.”

The bus had disappeared from view. Dante could pull up the other cameras, but if Lucas got off in the meantime, he’d have lost him.

Lois sat back down. “Give that to me. I’ll do the Milton end. You do the rest.”

They worked in silence, accessing the Livecams for every camera en route they could find. Dante knew it was an exercise in futility. He hadn’t done this properly. He’d been sloppy. He should have at the very least found a way to get close enough to Lucas to activate GPS tracking on his handset.

Dante went through the motions, knowing it was pointless yet unable to pull himself away. He and Lois sat as if in some sort of trance, transfixed by the motion of cars and buses and people on foot.

“I thought you were going to make tea,” he said.

“I can spare you ten minutes.”

Dante leaned across and kissed the side of her head. She stuck out a bony elbow and said, “Focus. These buses won’t drive in slo-mo just for your benefit.”

Five agonizing minutes ticked by until Lois spotted Lucas, still on the 505, emerging from Milton.

“Train station next.”

The station area was brightly lit, and the bus stopped in plain sight. Lucas stepped off. Dante thought for a moment he would head toward the trains, but he went in the opposite direction, crossing the road. Lois’s gaze moved with Dante’s to the third station camera.

Lucas lifted his arm and rang a doorbell on a block of flats.

“It’s okay.
It’s okay
.” Dante threw his head back and blew out a relieved breath. “He’s gone to see Avery.”

“That’s great.” Lois stood and folded her arms. “Why are you spying on him?”

Dante didn’t know how to answer. He really didn’t know whether he could bring himself to admit that he’d laid a wager on one man’s life and another’s soul. He didn’t know whether the wager had anything to do with why he was spying on Lucas anymore. Whether ten days of watching him had changed his mind. About everything.

“Dad?” she said, in a small voice. “What’s going on?”

Lois was twenty-four. Clever and grounded but standing in front of Dante with her eyes pleading—and it wasn’t a ploy—she could have passed for that frightened nine-year-old child who’d hidden under the kitchen cabinets, protecting herself and her baby sister.

He couldn’t bear to let her go. Not yet. He bit the inside of his lip and wondered if he really was losing his mind. He almost said so, but the actual words that came out were, “I need to go out. I need to see someone.”

“Please tell me
why
. Why are you spying on Lucas Green? I thought you weren’t going to have anything to do with him. I don’t understand. Have you changed your mind? Are you going to help him?”

“What would you say if I was?”

She sat on the edge of the desk, assessing the monitors, the hard drives, and her father. Her face was heart shaped, and Dante had always thought that apt. She was the heart of their makeshift family, and if she left he didn’t know how he’d cope. But she was an adult, and so was he, and betting on Lucas killing Shaw had been a stupid idea from the start.

At last Lois put her hand on Dante’s jaw and said, “If you think it’s the right thing to do, then I’d say, please be careful. Because I couldn’t stand for anything bad to happen to you.”

“Nothing bad will happen to me. I’ll be careful. You have my word.”

Of course, Lucas might not want his help anymore. Dante wouldn’t presume. He’d have to ask him. Face to face.

THE HEATER
on the lovely hydro-electric state-of-the-art bus didn’t work. Lucas’s toes burned with cold before they hit the pavement, where ice sparkled in wicked patches.

Lucas had been out with Avery a couple of times during the summer months, in the sullen wake of Grace’s funeral. Then once for a cocktails just over a month ago, in October. He hadn’t much felt like socializing since Grace died in April. Every time had been a mammoth effort, and more so since the nights had drawn in.

Likewise, Lucas hadn’t been keen to go out when Avery had called him earlier in the day (on a whim, darling) to invite him out for cocktails. Except her voice had an edge of desperation, and Lucas feared an intervention. The last thing he wanted was an uninvited entourage of friends invading his house, telling him to pull himself together. They’d probably turn up while he was practicing with his gun, and wouldn’t that be inconvenient?

On the other hand, if they only knew. The gun was the least of it. What about the “night runs”? Partly for getting fit, partly to establish a routine, partly to stalk Richard Shaw on the several nights a week that he drank at the Blue Bell. Lucas had never been a secretive sort of person until the last month, and that in itself should have been a warning.

Lucas pressed the buzzer at the communal entrance to Avery’s flat. Avery buzzed him in immediately, with a quick, “Hello!”

Avery’s family, as much as Lucas could ascertain, had flown to warmer climes. Her one-bedroom home provided her with all the space she needed in a convenient location. Like Lucas, she had no problem with living alone.

She opened the door in a floor-length dressing gown made from a patterned turquoise silk. Her hair billowed out over her shoulders like a soft, white cloud, quite unlike her usually neat coiffure. Her face was fully made up, rather more vividly than Lucas had ever seen it, but eye-catching in a good way.

“Am I too early?”

She’d said seven o’clock, but the bus had been unusually speedy through Milton.

“No, no. I won’t be a jiffy. Would you like tea?”

They headed directly for the kitchen before Lucas could decline. He never drank tea (except that time Dante had offered it). He and Avery had argued lots of times with regards to his inability to take to the leaf. Lucas couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, but he didn’t comment on it. Or the unexpected pile of dishes in the sink. Or the overpowering waft of perfume trailing behind her. He got the impression she might be getting over an illness.

“How are you? You’ve lost weight.”

“Good. Fine.” Avery filled the kettle.

Lucas straightened a pile of Sunday supplements on the kitchen table as he casually mentioned, “I went to see Dante Okoro.” He glanced in Avery’s direction to see how she’d respond.

“I know. He called to tell me.” She clapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh dammit. I meant to tell you. What were you thinking, darling?”

“You said he could help me.”

“I gave you his card. I meant for you to buy some porn. Or ask him out for a drink. I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I wasn’t. I mean, I thought I was. But that would be mad, wouldn’t it?”

“Mad? No.” She put the kettle on its stand but didn’t switch it on. She turned, leaned back on the counter, and said, “I am glad, though. You need to forget all that nonsense about avenging Grace.” Her tone wasn’t exactly unkind, but there was a definite hint of recrimination.

Lucas bristled but took the opportunity to say, “I have forgotten about it.”

“Good. Life’s precious and too short.” More lightly she said, “Did you like the shop? There are some delightfully fun things in there.” More ruefully, “Of course, nothing much that interests me these days.”

“I looked, but I didn’t buy.”

“Oh.”

She seemed more than a little disappointed. Lucas would have laughed, but Avery had put the kettle in the fridge.

“Avery, is everything all right? You don’t seem yourself.”

“Old age.” She took the magazines from him and added them to a pile next to the fridge.

“You’re seventy. That’s not old.”

“It’s old enough. Now, I’m just going to pop my hair up and get dressed. I’ll be with you in five. Help yourself to a drink. You know where everything is.”

“Would you like me to wash up?”

“No, don’t you dare. I’ll put everything in the dishwasher tomorrow.”

Lucas watched her depart, utterly dumbfounded. Admittedly this was Avery all over. She was cryptic and playful. Nonetheless, she wasn’t usually quite so… random.

While he waited for Avery, Lucas checked his handset. There was a message from Lily, reminding him yet again about the office Christmas party, which he had hoped to avoid this year. Along with the rest of Christmas.

Images of Grace flooded his memory. Grace dressed as an angel. Grace in a red party dress. Her blonde hair skimming her shoulders, her gray eyes laughing, her hand reaching up for the foil-wrapped chocolates in the shape of Christmas puddings hanging on the tree.