She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,150

up, and with three-quarters of a tank, I’d have just enough gas to get me back to Pittsburgh.

Although the drive from New York City to Pittsburgh was only about six hours, I didn’t want Matteo to know where I had been, because I planned to return by the end of the week to continue my hunt for the next name on my list, Jeffery Dalton. Three days was enough time to travel from just about anywhere in the country, and I figured it was best he was kept guessing.

I spent that night in a shelter in Allentown—a cot and a warm meal in exchange for privacy. I took a cot in the corner, where I could watch the others.

I killed the next day at the movies. I saw a lot of movies in those days—one entrance, one exit, and white coats stuck out in the dim light. I snuck in through the employee entrance with a bottle of Jack under my coat and found a seat in the back of the theater. The movie was called The Truman Show, starring Jim Carrey. It was about a guy whose every move was filmed and televised, watched by everyone. I didn’t much like the movie and fell asleep about halfway through. Back at the shelter that night, they knew I’d been drinking and wouldn’t let me in, so I slept in the back of the Jeep behind a Discount Auto.

I arrived at Matteo’s office at a little after nine on Monday morning. I parked in the small lot next to his building on Brownsville. I had a fifth of Jack in the glove box. I took a quick sip, enough to take the edge off, then hid the bottle away under my bogus registration and insurance papers. I sat in the Jeep for nearly twenty more minutes before I found the courage to go inside.

Tess looked up as I pushed through the door, the lines of her face drawing tight at the sight of me. “Jack?”

“Hi, Tess.”

She stood, took me all in, and I wanted to run back out the door. I had hoped to shower and shave at the shelter, but I had been unable to do either of those things.

Tess hugged me anyway, although I felt her pull away when her nose pressed into my sweatshirt. “You have no idea how worried we’ve been.”

The coat on the back of her chair was black leather.

“Tess, when he arrives, send him to the conference—” Matteo’s voice dropped off as he came out of the hallway and caught sight of me. “Holy hell, Jack.”

“Nice to see you, too.”

Tess stepped back and smoothed the front of my sweatshirt with her palms. “Do you want something to drink?”

Oh, did I.

“I won’t be staying long, thank you, though.”

I looked up at Matteo. “Conference room?”

He nodded.

I stepped past him, followed the hall, and took my usual seat. I folded my hands on the table in front of me, lowered them to my lap, then back to the table again, this time palms down. They left sweaty wet marks on the polished wood. I put them back in my lap.

Matteo stepped inside and closed the door behind him before taking his usual seat at the head of the table. He lowered himself into the chair with a grunt. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, Jack. You look thin.”

He didn’t. He looked like he put on another forty pounds or so.

“I’m alive. You’ve seen me. What do I need to sign in order to turn my allowance back on?”

“I really thought you were dead, Jack. The way you disappeared. Poor Will didn’t know what to do. He said you snapped, blamed himself.”

Poor Will. Poor little Willy.

I leaned forward. “Will was spying on me.”

“He was watching you for me.”

“And who are you watching me for?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You collect a nice salary from my trust, as administrator, right? Nowhere in there does it give you the right to police my life…watch me…guide me. None of that. You’re supposed to pay a few of my bills and make sure I receive my monthly stipend, that’s it. I didn’t need a babysitter back then, and I sure as shit don’t need one now. All I need is for you to do your job, pay out my money, and leave me the fuck alone.”

Matteo didn’t flinch. His eyes remained fixed on me. “I made certain promises to your aunt, as a friend, and I plan to follow through on those promises. You’re