Indefensible: A Novel by Lee Goodman

Author:Lee Goodman [Goodman, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Retail, Thriller
ISBN: 9781476728001
Amazon: 1476728003
Barnesnoble: 1476728003
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2014-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 31

I’m not wearing a tux. TMU pretends to be angered, but he doesn’t care, because it’s not that kind of city. The mayor is here (red bow tie, no tux), and the governor was invited, though he won’t show. It’s an invitation-only reception, but anybody who wanted an invite got one.

We’re upstairs above the Rain Tree in what was recently the abandoned and cavernous production floor of Rokeby Mills. Now it’s a convention center. The side facing the river is all windows, framed in the bright trim of local pines. The room is multilevel: You step down into the several wombish semicircles with built-in sofas for looking out at the river as you sip cocktails in a happy glow of economic upturn and architectural preservation. You go up a step to the bar and buffet areas. Standing here, I can see the North Woods brewery down on the floodplain where, just five years ago, four hundred golden Guernseys wallowed.

TMU insisted I come. He wants me out shaking hands and, with any luck, getting my smiling mug in the news. He has also brought along Pleasant Holly, my equivalent in the civil division of our office. Pleasant is pleasant. She has been on the job only about six months, but so far, we’re all impressed. Tina is here, too. I invited her, but she’s circulating in the crowd while I’m staying close to the bowl of shrimp.

Hollis Phippin is here. I catch sight of him standing in one of those lounges by the window. I’d like to pretend I don’t see him, but he’s already spotted me, so I walk over to say hi.

He grabs my hand and shakes robustly. “I have to admit, I’m kind of flattered, Nick,” he says.

“How so, Hollis?”

“That the FBI finds me a credible suspect in Scud Illman’s murder. Did you know they came by for a conversation?”

“I heard something about that.” To change the subject, I say, “Are you connected to the Rokeby project, Hollis?”

“Oh, you know,” he says, “everyone’s involved somehow; it’s not that big a town.” The cheerfulness leaves his face in a flash. “Tell me what you think, Nick. Is the one who killed Zander still out there?”

“We believe so, Hollis.”

“And the Illman character, couldn’t he have shot my son and a deer in the same night?”

I tell Hollis about my midnight drive to the reservoir.

There is a commotion: Two of the regulars from the vets’ table down in the Rain Tree roll Steve in his wheelchair off the escalator. All three are laughing. Steve’s helpers are in coat and tie. One looks respectable. The other has a face of busted capillaries and big blackhead-infested pores, and he beams his yellow-toothed smile at the watching crowd. “Damn near let him roll back down.” He laughs, then he and Steve do a quick high five, and Steve rolls over to the no-host bar.

“It’s all in violation,” Hollis says. “The elevator won’t get installed for at least six months. Maybe a year. The place shouldn’t even be open.

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