After All These Years by Susan Isaacs

Author:Susan Isaacs
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780061827228
Publisher: HarperCollins

Fourteen

“Get the hell out of my way!” I shouted at Danny, who was blocking the door. “I mean it!”

“Chill,” Danny said, in a tone so placid it made me want to scream.

The restaurant owner hustled out from the kitchen. “Chill!” he repeated, except he had a loud voice and an old-country accent.

“Stay out of this!” I bellowed. “Both of you!” Danny took a microsecond to pass the owner some subtle signal known only to co-conspirators in the fake-ID underworld. The owner scooted behind Danny, locked the door, pocketed the key, and returned to the kitchen, although not before passing me and grunting a brief “Hah!” of triumph.

“You’re not going back to Long Island,” Danny told me.

“I am. Get him to open the door. Now.”

Okay, so maybe I sounded a bit schoolmarmish. Still, I didn’t think it was necessary for him to say: “Fuck off, Rosie.”

“You fuck off, you little stinkpot. Do you think I’m going to let my kid take the rap for a crime he didn’t commit?”

“Calm down for a minute…” He grasped my wrist. I yanked it away. “Okay, for half a minute. Don’t you get what Gevinski’s up to? This is a trap. I thought you were smart.”

“I am smart.”

“No, because if you were, you’d know you’re doing just what this turd wants you to do: turn yourself in. Think about it.” With his hand between my shoulder blades, he propelled me away from the front door, toward a large round table in the rear. Behind it was a black six-paneled screen covered with trees, mountains, birds, deer, elderly scholars, and Chinese characters, a garish, peaceful universe. “Sit,” he commanded me. “Listen: Gevinski’s got zero to nail Alex with.”

“Alex lied about coming down from Boston by plane.”

“Holy shit!” Danny said. “That’ll definitely put him on death row.” I managed a semismile. “Let me give you the script of what happened. Besides the hundred-to-one odds Gevinski’s got your phone tapped, he’s probably been having Alex and Ben followed in hopes that they’ll lead him to you. It doesn’t happen. But, when the guys go to Dr. Higbee’s house for dinner, a light bulb goes on in his pea brain that you and her—”

“‘You and she.’”

“—are big-ass buddies.” Yesterday’s soy sauce formed a Rorschach blot on the tablecloth, a fleur-de-lis or an amputee starfish. “So he pays her a visit, pretending to want some information. He lets it drop that he thinks the real killer is Alex. He knows the best way to grind your gears is to threaten your kid; you’ll be back in Shorehaven on the next train, begging him to arrest you.” I didn’t know I was biting my nails until Danny reached across the table and drew my hand from my mouth. “Look at it another way: Alex did a few drugs in his day, maybe shoplifted a little in junior high. Amateur stuff. But still, he’s a guy who’s got a certain sensitivity when it comes to cops. Don’t you think he’d have sensed

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