Relief made me sag back against the couch cushions. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well? I did. Like a log.”
“Me, too.”
“So what time should I swing by? I’m going to grab some coffee here, and —”
I was suddenly scared to see him. “Would it be okay if… if we didn’t meet until later?” I asked. “I need some time to think. Can I meet you at the club tonight?”
I could tell by his hesitation that he was hurt. “Sure. Of course. I don’t want to push you.”
“It’s just easier to think if you’re not in front of me. Or touching me.”
He laughed softly. “Tom here was at me to meet his buddies. Why don’t I do that today, and I’ll see you tonight. Would it be pushing to say I love you?”
“No. It would be nice.”
“Then I love you, too.”
“I love you, too,” I said, and hung up.
I needed to clear my head, and I needed to get away from the phone. I pulled on some clothes and my old navy coat. I slipped outside and started for the corner. A walk in the park with a bag of chestnuts. I’d been wanting to do that for weeks.
I don’t know where he’d been, but suddenly he was walking next to me, a man in a dark suit, his hat pulled low.
“Where are you off to?”
I walked quicker, but he kept up easily.
“Listen, Kit, can you take a tip from somebody?”
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” I stopped and faced him. He had weary gray eyes and a big nose.
“You’re just a kid,” he said, looking at me with a glance that seemed to add me up like a cash register. “How’d you get mixed up in this? If you want to talk…” He handed me a card.
I almost threw it in his face, but I caught the initials. FBI.
“I’m not going to inform on anybody,” I said. “Just keep the card,” he said.
I was too afraid not to. I turned and walked back to the apartment, and he let me go. I went in the lobby door. Hank was there, just sitting in the gold chair by the mailboxes.
“Are they out there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “One of them just tried to talk to me. I didn’t tell him anything. I can’t believe they’re hounding your parents like that.” I looked at Hank. “Are you okay?” He looked even jumpier than I did.
The question seemed to take a long time to settle. “Can I go out your window, in the back?” Hank asked. “I know it’s a weird question, but they could be out there, and I don’t want them to see me.”
“Sure,” I said. “But how will you…”
“My friend Iggy lives in the building behind this one. I know they leave their back door open.”
Hank followed me into my kitchen. He went to the window and opened it.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked. “Is it your parents? Did something happen?”
“I have to go see my mother at work.”
“Can I walk with you a little bit? I’ve got to get out of the house for a while. Did you see the papers this morning? Somebody was killed at the club last night, and I’m spooked.”
He turned for just an instant, but I couldn’t read his expression. “I saw the papers.” Then he turned back and was out the window in a flash. I jumped out and trailed after him over the cracked pavement of the garden to the far wall. He hoisted himself up and I scrambled after him. We jumped down into a nicer yard. Here I could see more clearly the back of a town house. There were curtains at every window, pushed back to let in the light.
Hank knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, he pushed it open. “Mrs. Kessler? Hello?” There was still no answer, so he walked in. “Iggy’s at school. His mother works on the third floor; she knows I come in and out.”
He walked down the center hall. I could see rooms as we passed, rooms with couches and rugs and polished tables with silver vases on them filled with flowers.
“These guys have dough,” I said.
“His father is a lawyer. Who knows, we might need him someday.” Hank gave a hollow laugh.
“Hank, what’s the mystery? Are your parents in more trouble?”
He didn’t answer. He opened the front door and peered around. He walked out, and