The Wake-Up by Robert Ferrigno

Author:Robert Ferrigno
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Drug traffic, Humorous stories, Mystery & Detective, Humorous, Revenge, Fiction, Thrillers, General, Suspense, Forgery of antiquities, Swindlers and swindling, Los Angeles (Calif.)
ISBN: 9781400033874
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2005-08-09T03:40:47.814697+00:00

21

“Oh, hello . . . Frank.” Gina Meachum stood in her doorway, a hammer in her hand. A painting leaned against the sofa behind her. Her long dark hair was loosely bound with a strip of white lace, as though she had reached for whatever was handy to hold back her hair. She wore jeans and a cowboy shirt.

“I hate to interrupt,” said Thorpe, “but—”

“Who is it?” Douglas Meachum called from inside the house.

“A friend,” Gina answered, then waved Thorpe inside. “This isn’t a very good time. I’m finishing up some loose ends.” She pushed back her hair. “Have you found a house yet?”

“No . . . not yet.” It was hard to lie to her. Even harder to tell her the truth. Did he start with the suggestion that they get out of town for a few weeks, or end with it? Should he smile when he assured them that he would take care of everything? Have no fear, Frank Thorpe is here. He followed her inside, watched as she hung the painting, trying to decide where to begin. The painting was a realistic bright oil of a play-ground scene, a little girl pushing a red toy truck through the sandbox while a boy watched her from halfway down a slide. You knew within moments they were going to be fighting over the truck.

Gina stepped back, set down the hammer on a chest. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” Thorpe moved closer to her. “I need to talk to you and—”

“Who’s your friend?” Meachum said from the hallway, wheeling a large suitcase into the living room. He was wearing the same peacock blue Emilio Zegna suit that he had sported at LAX.

“Frank is house shopping,” said Gina. “We may be neighbors soon.”

“We’re a little busy right now, Frank,” said Meachum, setting down the suitcases. He was handsome but stiff and angular, as though there was a clothes hanger across his shoulders. “We’re leaving for Hawaii in the morning.”

“Two weeks in Maui.” Gina looked at Thorpe, made eye contact. “It’s kind of a second honeymoon for us.”

“No need to be melodramatic,” said Meachum.

“Frank was at Missy’s party,” said Gina, still watching him. “He may be interested in some art for his new house.”

Meachum smiled at Thorpe. “Is that correct?”

Thorpe had only two kinds of luck. Very, very bad or very, very good. “Yes . . . I was at the gallery a week or so ago, looking at some pieces. I talked to Nell—”

“You won’t be talking to her anymore.” Meachum grimaced. “That woman stabbed me in the back. Didn’t even have the integrity to tell me what she had done. No gratitude in this world anymore.” He took a deep breath, adjusted his necktie. “I’m sure you’ve read all about our difficulties in the paper. I can only hope that Betty B’s column doesn’t dissuade you from allowing me to fulfill your aesthetic needs. I can assure you that I maintain the highest standard—”

“The article said you gave Missy a full refund.

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