The Snow Girls by Chris Mooney

Author:Chris Mooney
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781405932547
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2018-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

31

Darby had been to Camilla Rose once, a few years back. Coop had taken her there for her birthday. Actually, he’d insisted on it, wouldn’t take no for an answer. Despite being a jeans-and-T-shirt guy, Coop harboured a secret love for haute cuisine and fancied himself as something of a foodie; and, although he would never admit to it, she suspected he liked getting dressed up. Darby, a lover of diners and burger joints and dive bars, never understood the point of dropping wads of cash on big fancy white plates that contained hardly any food, and dressed up only for weddings and funerals, and then only because it was mandatory.

Still, she agreed to go because she saw how it excited him, and because she relished any time she could spend alone with him.

Thinking about him now – how they hadn’t spoken in over a year, how they had drifted apart once she found out that he was engaged to be married – formed a knot in her heart. She had never put much stock in marriage until she’d met him. She’d never bought into the whole soul-mate notion either, until she’d met him. Jackson Cooper had changed her, and now he was lost to her, in love with another woman, and even after all this time it still hurt. Darby walked into the restaurant, a knot twisting in her heart.

When she stopped near the entrance to the dining room, with its high ceiling and artful lighting and expensive décor, she wasn’t surprised that she recognized many of the faces seated at the white linen tables – the current Massachusetts senator dining with a former mayor who had tried to run for president; the owner of the New England Patriots; a popular radio personality; and two former players for the Red Sox. Camilla Rose, one of Boston’s oldest and most expensive restaurants, was also one of the city’s de facto hot spots for power brokers.

The maître d’, an older gentleman himself, and wearing a three-piece suit, sidled up next to her. He glanced at her jeans and black leather jacket and said, ‘May I help you?’

Darby kept scanning the room. ‘Just looking for a friend. Don’t worry, I’m not staying for dinner.’

‘Be that as it may, our guests are required to wear –’

‘I’m here on police business,’ Darby said, and turned to him. ‘That a problem?’

He stiffened, swallowed. ‘No, it’s not a problem.’

Darby smiled. ‘Didn’t think so.’

‘But I would ask that you show some discretion. Our patrons –’

‘Ah, there he is. This will only take a moment. Thanks for your concern, Jeeves. Have a wonderful evening.’

Darby moved through the dining room, heading to the far right-hand corner where Father Cullen sat at a table with three other men. She recognized the fat one holding court: Stewart Worthington, one of the city’s most prominent trial lawyers. She had met him several times over the years, in court and at various social functions. Worthington fancied himself as Boston’s version of Brad Pitt, only he was Jabba the Hutt with a bad Boston accent and big, capped teeth as white as a toilet bowl.

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