Notorious (23 page)

M
elanie and Susan were
seasoned enough prosecutors to understand that the mere placing of a phone call, without proof of its contents, could always be explained away. Jennifer Lamont and Evan Diamond were two lawyers working on a contentious criminal trial together. They had legitimate reason to speak. Perhaps not as often as they had, or as late at night. But what looked like a smoking gun to suspicious minds could be recast as innocent in the hands of a skilled lawyer. They were going to need better evidence if they wanted to take action against Jennifer to stop any leaking that was going on.

“We need a wiretap,” Melanie said. “We need to know what they're actually saying, not just that they're talking.”

“We'll never get one,” Susan insisted. “We don't have enough proof. No judge would sign off on a wiretap just based on these phone records.”

“You think they're sleeping together. Can we prove that? Are they meeting in hotels? Is he visiting her apartment late at night?”

“One way to find out,” Susan said, reaching for the phone.

The wheels of justice kept spinning even in the face of profound
loss, and DEA had already assigned a new case agent to the Briggs case to replace Papo West. Susan got Tommy Yee on the phone, explained the situation, and told him to come right over. Twenty minutes later, Tommy sat beside Melanie, his hardened eyes blazing like they'd burn holes into the phone records.

“The thought that an AUSA tipped off a piece of shit like Diamond,” he said, shaking his head. “It makes me sick. She could be responsible for Papo's death.”

Melanie had written warrants for Tommy Yee in the past, and seen him in action enough to get a feel for his character. He was smart and skilled, but he had an unpredictable streak that needed to be reined in. Too many tours of duty in the Golden Triangle could turn a good agent wild.

“We're not sure Jennifer is tipping off Diamond,” she cautioned. “It's just a suspicion. We have to proceed cautiously.”

“Oh, I'll be cautious. She won't see me coming. You can bet your ass I'm gonna find out what's going on. I know what Diamond looks like. Do you have a picture of the girl?”

Susan passed Tommy the copy of Jennifer's temporary ID with her picture on it.

“Innocent-looking thing, isn't she?” he said. “You never can tell.”

“That has her address and phone number listed also,” Susan pointed out.

“You have an address for Diamond?”

“Office address, yes. The home address I need to get from court records,” Susan said.

“What about motor vehicle?” Tommy asked.

“No.”

“No problem. I can get that for both of them.” He stood up. “All right, any last instructions?”

“Don't hurt anybody, and don't get hurt,” Melanie said.

Tommy smiled. “Don't worry. I've calmed down a lot.”

S
teve had Maya until
the next morning, and Melanie dreaded coming home to an empty apartment tonight. The early spring weather was ugly, bitter gusts of wind laced with a chill rain. To make matters worse, her favorite doorman, Hector, had the night off, and the new guy, Vladik, was working in his place. Vladik was condescending and a little hostile. When she said hello to him on the way to the mailboxes, he barely responded. She unlocked her box only to find a thick stack of bills.

Upstairs, she unlocked the door and walked into the foyer expecting the welcome of home, only to find the apartment looking small and in need of a thorough cleaning. Had it always been this small? Sometimes the four walls felt like they were closing in, and she longed to live in a house. That would be nicer for Maya, but how could she afford it? Melanie was starving, and she dumped the mail and marched to the kitchen without stopping to take off her coat. There was almost nothing in the refrigerator—some milk and yogurt, and some turkey meatballs Yolie had made for Maya that Melanie wouldn't dip into. She'd have to get groceries tomorrow. In
the pantry, she found a couple of cans of tuna fish and a few Top Ramens. Nothing appealed, so she ate a yogurt standing at the open refrigerator door to take the edge off her hunger.

While she was licking the last bit from the spoon, the intercom rang.

“Yes?”

“Mr. O'Reilly here to see you,” Vladik said.

“I'm not expecting him,” Melanie said, taken aback.

“I should send him up—yes or no?”

If Hector had been on duty, she would've trusted him to tell Dan that Melanie couldn't see him right now. After what had happened between them in the airport, surely Dan would understand. And yet, precisely because of what had happened, Melanie didn't want to leave the delicate task to somebody as insensitive as Vladik, who was sure to screw it up. She'd have to convey her message herself.

“All right, send him up,” she said.

By the time she'd thrown the yogurt container away and hung up her coat, the doorbell was ringing. She stopped to peer through the peephole. In her line of work, you couldn't be too careful. Though with the way her heart turned over at the sight of Dan's face, opening the door to him had dangers of its own.

She opened it only a crack. “Why are you here?”

“Sorry to stop by unannounced. I figured if I called first, you'd say no for sure. So I took a shot.” He smiled, but there was no laughter in his eyes, only anxiety.

“Is this about the case?”

“No, I…I've been thinking about that kiss. I can't
stop
thinking about it. I just needed to see you, is all.”

“It's not a good idea, Dan.”

Melanie moved to shut the door, but Dan got his foot in there. “Please. I won't take a lot of your time. You know, I just went to pick up my dog from my brother's house. Guinness. You remember him?”

“Of course I remember your dog.”

“I'm gone three months, and all of a sudden he got old. I don't know how it happened. He's moving so slow, and there's this white patch under his chin that wasn't there before. It made me sad. It made me need to see you.”

The yearning in his eyes was hard to contemplate. She looked down at his shoe again, wedged in the door.

“I'm sure it was difficult for him that you went away,” she said. “Why don't you go home now, and be with him? That's the best thing. I just can't see you. I'm sorry.”

Dan looked like he'd been punched in the gut, but nodded in resignation and moved his foot. Melanie shut the door, but she couldn't make herself walk back to the kitchen like she knew she should. She just stood there leaning her head against it.

“Are you still there?” he asked, after a moment.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

“If you let me in, I promise I won't talk about old times. I won't try to win you back, nothing. I'll only talk about work. Even if it's ten minutes, that's okay. I came home for the first time in months, and everything felt so different. Then I thought about how it felt to hold you…If I could just see your face, Melanie, hear your voice, I know things would start to seem normal again. It doesn't have to be more than that.”

She didn't say anything.

“I don't mean to spook you. I'm not gonna go all stalker on you or anything.”

Melanie was still quiet.

“Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes. This is a mistake. You should go away.” Her hands were shaking with how much she missed him. This was bad for her.

“Did you eat?” he asked. “If you didn't eat yet, maybe we could
grab a bite. Maybe I shouldn't ask to come in your apartment. Would it be better if we went somewhere else?”

His acknowledgment of that boundary gave her the justification she needed to say yes.

“All right. But quick.”

“Sure.”

“Let me get my coat,” she said.

 

S
he was careful to take him to a place they'd never gone to together in the past, a Thai restaurant that did mostly a take-out business. She didn't need the memories of their usual haunts. With the weather, and the fact that it was after nine o'clock and midweek, most of the tables were empty. It turned out that Dan had never eaten Thai food before, so she ordered for both of them, and got them bottles of Singha beer.

Dan took a swig of the beer and nodded. “Not as bad as I expected,” he said.

The familiarity of his face was almost too much for Melanie to handle. She was letting an old obsession take root again, just when she'd nearly succeeded in beating it. A voice in her head kept telling her to get up and leave, but she couldn't.

“You look different,” he said. “It's hard to believe you could look better than you used to look, but—”

“Dan
. Either we keep this about work, or—”

“Okay, I'm sorry.”

The waitress came by with their spring rolls and chicken satay.

“You'll like these,” Melanie said, pushing the satay toward him. “Dip them in the peanut sauce.”

She remembered how she loved to watch him eat. He was a big man with a big appetite, yet he remained neat.

“There's been a development in the bombing investigation,” he said.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“Yeah, I can. You and the rest of the trial team are gonna be informed tomorrow anyway, because it relates to what you're doing. The bomber's body was transported to New York, and the ME's office finally identified him. Yusef Hosseini. A Yemeni guy from Detroit with a long sheet. Drugs, but weapons, too. Small arms, even. Just finished up a federal bid for dealing in hand grenades. He's the same one who purchased the explosives.”

“It makes sense, doesn't it, that the guy who purchased the explosives would also detonate the bomb. He probably built it, too.”

“But wait, there's more, and this is the interesting part. Remember how I said the guy who bought the explosives had ties to Vegas Bo, and that's how I ended up in Vegas at the same time you did?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it was this guy, Hosseini. Hosseini and Vegas Bo were cell mates in Leavenworth. They both got out within the last year.”

Melanie was holding her beer. She set the bottle down with a hard thunk of glass.

“I can't believe that.”

“It's no coincidence,” Dan said.

“I don't think so, either. Vegas Bo hired the bomber.”

“Either that, or made the introduction for somebody else.”

“Who would Bo have made the introduction for? Atari? Or Evan Diamond?”

“I guess it all depends on who wanted your boyfriend dead.”

“My boyfriend?”

He took a pull on his beer, watching her. “Yeah, Poe.”

“He wasn't my boyfriend.”

“No?”

The relief on his face simultaneously touched her heart and made her want to hurt him, the way he'd hurt her with Diane. Why shouldn't she have a new boyfriend, when he still had feelings for his ex-wife?

“He was very attractive, though,” she blurted, and she saw from Dan's expression that she'd managed to land a blow. Somehow it didn't make her feel any better.

“But…he was old enough to be your father.”

“He was rich, powerful, handsome, charming. It's easy to excuse age in a man when he has those qualities. There was a bigger problem, though. Lester wasn't who I thought he was. Since he died, I've learned some things about him that have disappointed me. On the other hand, he was persuasive enough to make you forget the bad.”

“What exactly happened between the two of you?”

She shook her head. “I swore I wouldn't talk to you about this sort of thing.”

“I need to know.”

“We don't have that kind of relationship anymore.”

His words came in a rush. “I used to think about it all the time when I was over there. Is she with somebody? Were you? I wasn't. Not since we broke up.”

Just then the waitress appeared and slapped down fragrant platters of pad thai and panang curry. Melanie noticed that Dan hadn't eaten much of the appetizers.

“You don't like the food?” she asked.

“No, it's just…seeing you again. It's hitting me in the gut. I can't believe I lost you. I look back and I don't understand how it happened. I know you were upset that I was feeling this connection to Diane, but what I really needed was some time to get my head straight. I never thought you wouldn't give me that. I knew I would come back to you in the end, that it was a question of making that break with my past, of knowing in my heart that it was the right
thing. But I guess you didn't know I'd come back. You didn't trust in my good faith. Maybe I asked for too much.”

Their eyes met and held, and the confusion in Dan's, the loss—those feelings were too powerful for Melanie to see. She was getting sucked into the vortex where she couldn't afford to go.

“I'm not ready to talk about this,” she said. “I'm still really hurt, and you're too good at making me forget my objections. Maybe I'll always feel this way. Maybe it's too late for us. I'm not sure. But I do know that now is not the time to discuss it, not when I'm still reeling from watching Papo West die. Look at what already happened between us in the airport, Dan. I refuse to fall back into a relationship with you by accident, or because I'm upset. That would be wrong for both of us.”

“I understand.”

“So either we keep away from talking about our feelings, and act like two colleagues having dinner, or else I have to go.”

“You can't leave.”

“Then don't get personal like that.”

“I'll lay off. I promise. But stay. Just look at all this food. You need to eat, and I need you to tell me what it is because I don't have a clue.”