long have you known about her and me?”
A faint smile touches Nadine’s lips. “I figure you’ve been sleeping with her for about three months.”
She guessed it nearly to the day. “When did you know? And how?”
“The first two months you came into the store for coffee, you were so pissed off about leaving Washington and watching your career stall that you were hard to be around. Then one day you waltzed in on air. Either you’d started sleeping with somebody or doing drugs.”
“How did you know it was Jet?”
She shakes her head, her incredulity plain. “Any time her name came up in conversation, even four tables away, you’d look up from your coffee. Every time you said her name the timbre of your voice changed. Even now. Not to mention, your gate code is her birthday.”
I feel my cheeks go red. “How’d you know that?”
“After I found those earrings, my mind started working. The code ended in your birth year, but it wasn’t your birthday. I have a St. Mark’s alumni directory. Took about thirty seconds to find out what Jet’s was.”
“I guess I wouldn’t make much of a spy.”
Nadine snorts a little laugh, but then her expression turns serious. “If Paul Matheson doesn’t know you’re sleeping with his wife, it’s because he’s worked hard to blind himself to it. He’s not my cup of tea, but he’s no dummy, either.”
“No.”
“After what I saw tonight, you’d better be damned careful. If that cop had tried to handcuff Jet, Paul would have hurt him. The other cop would have shot him for it, but Paul didn’t care. I don’t think he’d hesitate to hurt you, Marshall. Even kill you.”
“I saw. He’s close to the edge.”
The sound of an engine rises in the alley behind the back door. Nadine looks up at a small window set high in the wall, then reaches out and snuffs the flame of the candle.
“A wavering light might look weird,” she whispers, “no matter how dim.”
“Do you still have your gun?”
“In my purse, on the floor. But I’d rather not shoot a cop if we can avoid it.”
I hear my heartbeat in my ears as the engine grows louder. It seems to stop outside the door, but after several seconds, it moves on.
“Why don’t we go sit in the banquette up front?” I ask the barely discernible form in front of me.
“Because even with the lights out, it’s visible from the street if you press your face to the glass. We’d better stay back here. There’s a little bathroom over there. I’ll turn on the light and crack the door in a minute.”
“Okay. Hey, how did you recruit Tim Hayden to pick me up?”
I sense more than see an affectionate smile. “He and the guy I’m staying with are lovers. I got my friend Chris to call Claude Buckman and deliver the threat that sprung you from jail. Tim volunteered to pick you up and bring you here. If I don’t hear from him soon, I need to call and check on him.”
“Why don’t you call him now? I’ll call my mother.”
“You can’t power up your phone.” Nadine’s cell flashes to life between us, and I see a snarky look on her face. “Either of them. Use mine.”
She dials my mother’s cell from her contacts list, then holds the phone to my ear. After five rings, Mom answers in a ragged voice, “Nadine? Have you heard anything about Marshall?”
“It’s me, Mom,” I say, taking the phone. “I’m out of jail, and I’m okay.”
“Thank God. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“I’m fine. Nadine got me out.”
“I told you she’s good people. I like that girl, Marshall.”
“Me, too. Is Dad awake yet?”
“No. They’re thinking about bringing him out of the coma later this morning. I’m trying to stay optimistic.”
“I’ll check back soon. I wanted to tell you something. I had a sort of epiphany, I guess, while I was in jail. I realized why you asked me whether I hadn’t punished Dad enough by now.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you were right. I—”
“Don’t tell me, Marshall. Tell him. You’re going to get your chance.”
I feel my mother’s invisible hands pushing me toward forgiveness, and maybe redemption. “I’ll be there after it’s light, unless you need me sooner. Just call Nadine’s cell phone.”
“I will. Be careful.”
I click end. “I guess you heard all that?”
By the phone’s light, I see Nadine smile to herself.
“So . . . are you ready to tell me what’s in the cache? Or are you still