the kindness of his heart. He’s getting paid.”
“And communicating with him by leaking to Shaindy Eckstein.”
“Sure. What better way to hide what you’re doing than by leaking information through a reporter who’d go to prison before she disclosed the source? Our rogue agent never has to make direct contact with David. The reporter is the perfect intermediary.”
“Makes sense,” Emmy allows. “Well, then, follow the money. I don’t see Rabbit or Pully buying Cartier diamonds or Lamborghinis or dining at the finest restaurants.”
“Me neither.”
“The rest of the people, I couldn’t form an opinion. I don’t know them well enough.”
“But they know you,” says Books.
Emmy looks at him.
“There are hundreds of reporters in this town alone,” he says. “Whoever this is didn’t pick Shaindy Eckstein out of a hat.”
Emmy nods. “They picked her because she’s a close friend of mine.”
“Exactly.”
“They’re setting me up.”
Books nods. “I’ll keep working on this and keep you updated,” he says. “But in the meantime, you might want to grow some eyes in the back of your head. Someone has it in for you.”
58
MY CONVERSATION with Books ends with my nodding in agreement and saying a quiet thanks for his information. Instinctively, I take a step forward as I say goodbye, being in the habit of giving him a kiss and an embrace of some kind, but then I realize that we don’t do that sort of thing anymore. We are exes now.
I see the same start-and-stop movements from him, as if we’re in a game of Mother, May I. A long, silent pause follows.
I wonder if his stomach’s in knots, if his chest feels like it’s on fire, if he hurts so bad that it defies words. If he wants to kiss me right now as much as I want to kiss him.
“Emmy,” he says. “No matter what, we’ll always—”
“I’ll see you soon.” With that, I rush out, unable to bear hearing him call me friend, understanding why people shouldn’t stay in touch with their exes. And yet there I was with the “I’ll see you soon,” holding the promise of another encounter, unable to decisively cut the cord myself.
I walk past Petty, who is shelving books like an employee. From what I know of him, he’s a sweet man who was chewed up and spit out in the war, left with a brain that operates like a flickering light bulb. The light seems to be on right now, as he gauges my mood, focuses on a paperback novel, and mumbles a “Good to see ya, Emmy,” keeping it detached and unemotional.
There is a mist in the air and in my eyes as I leave the store. I text Eric that I’ll be there in twenty, which might be optimistic with traffic and an oncoming storm.
When I reach the stoop of my apartment building, I find myself glancing around. I jump when a car door opens on a parked car down the street, but it’s only Eric Pullman getting out.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” I say as he approaches.
“No problem, I was just texting back and forth with this supermodel who has a thing for me. I’d rather not say her name.”
Pully always makes me smile. Pully is like a kid in big-boy clothes, with that unkempt hair, the long neck and goofy expression, his self-deprecating comments and ill-fitting clothes. You’d almost forget that between those ears that protrude from his head like antennae is a mind that can sort out complex mathematical problems and breezily navigate computer code. He sees computers the way Beethoven saw pianos.
But his joke aside, it would be nice for him to have a girlfriend. Or at least get laid every now and then.
I punch in the code, and we enter my building and take the elevator up. I’m too drained for stairs. I feel a sense of dread as I approach my apartment, knowing that Darwin—Bonita’s nickname has stuck—has walked this hallway, has entered my apartment, has rooted around in my things. Pully isn’t exactly bodyguard material, but still, I am profoundly relieved to have someone with me.
I unlock the door and turn off the alarm. Pully leans into the alarm pad and declares, “This wouldn’t be hard to bypass.”
Well, that’s what Darwin must have done. When my alarm is armed or disarmed—whenever its status changes—an e-mail is sent to me. Darwin somehow managed to enter my apartment without the alarm so much as blinking.
I make some decaf coffee and let Pully do his thing in my office. I sit