Susan Kandel by Shamus in the Green Room

Author:Shamus in the Green Room [Room, Shamus in the Green]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-10T13:22:01+00:00

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

Isaw Gambino through the shattered glass of the dining room window. He was sitting at the table, staring into his lap.

I let myself in and called out a halfhearted hello.

No answer.

“How’d your meeting with the D.A. go?”

No answer.

It’s over, I said to myself. Out loud, I said, “Talk to me.”

He was quiet, like he always was when we were fighting. He hated fighting. I hated having to drag the words out of him.

“Is this really how it’s going to end, Peter?”

Pause.

“Please. Say something.”

“I don’t have the energy for this today, Cece.”

“For what?”

He closed his eyes, then opened them, like he was just wak-ing up. “I need to show you something.”

174

He took my hand and led me over to the wall opposite the broken window. I was confused.

Gambino looked me in the eye. “Do you know what this is?”

“A small, round hole. Maybe a third of an inch in diameter. So?”

As soon as I’d said it, I knew.

I’d been right the first time.

“That’s right,” he said angrily, “now you see my problem. I get here a couple of hours ago, see the broken glass, the patched-up window, have a look around, and find this. A fucking bullet hole. Somebody fired a thirty-eight special into this house. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” I said in a small voice.

“Were you here when this happened?” He was gripping my shoulders now, hard.

“Yes.”

“Jesus! Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Are you crazy?”

I pulled away from him. “Why don’t you give me a minute to explain?”

“Fine.” He yanked out his chair and sat down.

I leaned against the wall, hoping it would swallow me up.

“It was this morning, early. I heard a noise. I tried to call 911, but I couldn’t find my phone. Your cell phone was out of juice.

I waited a long time. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You could’ve gotten out of there,” he said. “Screamed for help—”

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I protested. “When I finally saw the broken window, I thought the paperboy had done it.

The newspaper was right outside.”

“So you cleaned up the mess. Good-bye, evidence.”

“I’m sorry.”

175

“I know you’re sorry,” he said quickly. “You’re always sorry.

One day it’s going to be too late for sorry. No matter what I say, you just refuse to think, for god’s sakes.”

“Are you done now?” I asked.

He looked at me like he was trying to make up his mind about something, which didn’t exactly make me happy.

I held his gaze.

He keep looking.

“I can beat you at this game,” I said, not blinking.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms. I fell into them.

“This isn’t about you, Cece.”

But it was about me. About me not being able to let things go. About me thinking I was immune to danger.

“I’m scared for you,” he said.

I pulled away from him, ashamed.

“And I’m angry at myself,” he continued. “Furious, actually. This whole thing is turning out so wrong. I keep making mistake after mistake.”

I was confused. Were we talking about the same thing?

“What does this have to do with the woman who keeps calling you?” I asked.

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