Lynne Heitman - First Class Killing

“Really? Why don’t you tell me sweet Jamie’s version, because we know he would never tell a lie.”

“You pursued him, you lied to him, you came into his hotel room, and the two of you fucked. One time.”

“One time or ten times, it makes no never mind when you’re cheating on your wife.”

“He also didn’t know you were a hooker.”

“Tell me why that matters, doll.”

“We both know he never would have touched you if he knew what you really are.”

“You’re hurting my feelings.”

The sound of a car horn made it hard to hear, mostly because it was loud and getting louder, not to mention unrelenting, which was when I realized it was attached to the Audi that was bearing down on me. I had wandered into the middle of Arlington Street at Beacon, one of the more treacherous pedestrian intersections in the city, which was saying a lot in Boston. I made a dash for the other side. If I were to be run over, it might as well be going forward.

“This is between you and me, Angel. My family has nothing to do with it.”

“Are you under the impression we are playing by some set of rules? He talked about you, by the way. Do you want to know what he said?”

“If I do, I’ll ask him. Tell me specifically what it is you want, so we don’t have any unfortunate misunderstandings.”

“I want to fuck as many men as will pay me, make more money than God, and retire to my very own cattle ranch in Texas. But right now, I’ll settle for Monica. You tell me where I can catch up with her, and I’ll send you back Jamie’s dirty movie. Did I tell you how much he likes to-”

“Why do you want Monica? So you can beat her to death with a brick?”

There was the slightest pause, which I enjoyed. Angel speechless was a thing to behold. “I see you two have hooked up. Do you like how I did that? Sending her to you so I would know where to find her?”

“Yeah, you’re a real mastermind.”

“I know what’s bothering you deep down, sis. Little brother’s got a few more moves than you knew about. Here you’ve been thinking all along he’s sweet and innocent. But come to find out he’s just as twisted and screwed up as the rest of us. As you and me, sweet pea.”

“Jamie is not like you.”

“Oh, my. Listen to you. Still protecting little brother from the big, bad world. That was him in that bed with me, wasn’t it? Between my thighs, pumping away like a house afire. Must be he doesn’t get everything he needs at home, or else why would he be rolling around in the mud with the likes of me?”

“You don’t live in the mud. You live in the sewer, and you can’t get the stink off, no matter what you do. Isn’t that right?”

“Only you can’t protect him from this. You’re the one who caused it to happen to him in the first place.”

“Is that all? Are we done?”

“I’ll give you until midnight to decide. If I don’t hear from you, I will send out copies of our little fun time to Mrs. Jamie and the little Jamiettes, to the partners at the firm, to the friends, the kids’ private schools, and anybody else in his address book who looks interesting. I’ll tell you something else, too, darlin’. I’ll find Monica, anyway.”

I was close to the playground, and it was afternoon, prime time for screaming and squealing tots. It was hard to hear, but there wasn’t much more to talk about, anyway. I knew the game. I knew the stakes. I knew what I had to do. “I’m about to go underground and lose my signal,” I said. “But remember one thing. No matter what you try to do to Jamie, no matter what you do to me, you will always be what you are.”

“What’s that, doll?”

“The girl who fucked the parish priest back in West Texas.”

I snapped the phone shut and found a bench in the Public Garden to sit on. Judging by the disapproving scowl, the white-haired woman walking her Scottish terrier must have heard that last part. I ignored her and smiled at the dog, the less judgmental of the two.

I felt terrible. My whole body was stiff and brittle, and I was still trying to recover from my meeting with Harvey. I wasn’t sure what would cure my ills, short of putting my fist into Angel’s face, but I did have a thought about something that might help.

I flipped open the phone and turbo-dialed Jamie. I didn’t know what I would say, although, when it came down to it, I had only one thing to say. His voice mail picked up.

“Jamie, I’m sorry. I wish I could say these things to you live, but I can’t wait. The things I said…they were terrible. You didn’t deserve it, and I’m so sorry I got you into this situation. I’m trying hard to fix it. That’s all I wanted to say, that I’m sorry and I hope we can talk soon.” I started to punch off, but I’d forgotten the one thing I had called to tell him. “Jamie…I love you.”

I punched off, pulled out Bo’s card, and dialed his number. The way things were going, I would have to program him into speed dial. When he answered, I got straight to the point.

“Will you do me another favor?”

He said he would, and I told him where he could find Tristan and Monica. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, but, given his earlier experience of mistaken identity, he had the same one Tristan had had. How would they recognize each other?

“When you ring the buzzer,” I said, “tell him who you are. Your part of the code isRob. He’ll answer withLowe. Rob Lowe.”

“Okay. Is there anything else you need?”

I looked across the garden at the lush but fragile carpet of leaves that covered the ground. More were falling-spinning, dipping, and floating on the leading edge of a cold front that was barreling down from Canada, they said. I checked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear.

“There is one more thing I need.”

STEWART’S DOOR WAS LOCKED WHENITRIED the knob, but I knew he was in there. I heard his stereo pounding. I thought about crashing through the window but decided to go with a knock. I didn’t need the element of surprise, not with Bo’s Glock in my waistband.

Alarmingly, Stewart wasn’t surprised at all to see me. He stepped aside without comment and let me in, then headed for the back room. “What you want is back here.”

I stood for a moment, trying to decide if the fact that he had expected me was a bad thing. Angel had obviously filled him in. Ultimately, I decided it didn’t matter. I wasn’t leaving.

Back in the bedroom, Stewart was watching Jamie’s video. He’d turned his stereo off, so the sound track was clearly audible. He froze the picture when he saw me, hit a button on his keyboard, and brought up a list of ten or twelve e-mail addresses.

“This is the distribution list Angel gave me for this little art house film.” His voice had a sharp edge of confidence, as if he had total control. It showed in his eyes, too. “Take a look.”

My e-mail address was on the list. So was Gina’s. I saw the address for Jamie’s new company and what looked like Sean’s private school. There was an address for St. Anthony’s Parish and-my stomach turned to stone-my father. I imagined Walter pulling up a copy and feeling vindicated for every nasty thing he’d ever said about Jamie.

“Where did you get these?”

“I hacked into his e-mail account. Watch this.” Stewart used his mouse to move the cursor over the send box…and clicked it. Heclicked it.He sent the messages.

“Did you…what did you do? What did you justdo?”

“Relax. They’re not quite gone yet. They’re locked away in a safe place on the server for now.” Which meant there was nothing I could do from his computer. “I can stop them any time in the next ten minutes. But after that, they’re gone, and nothing can stop them, and no one can get them back. Think of it as a ticking time bomb, and only you can defuse it.”