Chapter Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

When I woke up at seven-thirty, Spike was still asleep on the couch. Elspeth was in the kitchen, wearing the yoga pants and T-shirt I'd lent her to sleep in during her tiny window of being awake. They were maybe a size or two too big, but she looked cute and comfortable in them—and shockingly fresh-faced for someone who'd polished off an entire bottle of wine before bedtime. That was twenty-two, I supposed.

The T-shirt was from Richie's old saloon. I hadn't really looked at the shirt when I'd given it to Elspeth, and now it felt like the universe was snapping its fingers in front of my face, telling me to pay attention. Richie's saloon was no more. He'd sold it to a big corporation, which had turned it into one of those soulless birthday-party places for kids, with overpriced food, rooms full of video games, and carefully measured drinks for the parents. Richie was in Jersey, waiting for me to decide if I wanted to change my entire life, too. He wouldn't wait forever. Time was marching on. And as much as I wanted to step on the hem of its cloak and trip it, I was powerless.

Elspeth had already made a pot of coffee and she was drinking a cup. "I hope you don't mind that I helped myself," she said. Her eyes were wide and apologetic and slightly confused. I must have been looking at her funny.

"Of course not," I said. "Sorry. I'm just a little…um…distracted."

"I get it," she said. "Listen, thanks for letting me stay here last night. I'll be out of your hair soon."

"You can stay as long as you like."

"I have to get home to change for work."

"You can borrow some of my clothes."

She looked at me. "Do you have anything in white wool? I have to match the color scheme and they keep it so cold in there, even in the winter."

"I think I do," I said.

I went back into my bedroom and looked through my closet. I pulled out a white Armani suit I'd bought on a whim while visiting L.A. with Jesse Stone. It had been a business trip—we were both investigating the same case—but we'd managed to squeeze in quite a bit of pleasure. Coincidentally, we'd hooked up in a boutique dressing room at one point—something I'd never even considered doing before that trip (or, come to think of it, after). But that hadn't been when I'd bought the Armani. I shut my eyes and pushed the memories out of my mind. Jesse and I were no more—and we'd been no more for quite a while. It was just like my brain to ambush me like this, broadcasting the most inappropriate images at the most inappropriate times.

I focused on the suit. It looked like it might fit Elspeth, if she buttoned the jacket and maybe wore a belt. I brought it out to her, along with a white satin Dolce & Gabbana blouse I'd purchased right here in Boston, no memories attached. I walked into the kitchen and held them up.

Her eyes lit up. "Are you sure I can wear these?"

"You bet."

She put her cup of coffee down. I handed her the clothes. "I'll get these back to you right away," she said. "I'll get them dry-cleaned."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, no. You're a life saver, actually. I just remembered it's my office Christmas party this morning."

"This morning?"

"Well, late morning. It's like a brunch thing. At the Loews."

"Fancy."

"Right? So now I'll feel like…appropriately dressed."

"Glad to be of help."

Spike walked into the kitchen, yawning and stretching. I'd seen him wake up many times over the course of our friendship. He'd always reminded me of a bear coming out of hibernation, and this morning was no different.

"Morning, Spike," Elspeth said.

"Morning, kid." Spike held up Elspeth's phone. "You left this in the kitchen last night, so I charged it for you."

Elspeth stared at it, the smile slipping from her face, the previous night creeping up on her, overtaking her. "Did…Did you check the texts?" she asked.

Spike shook his head. "I didn't want to invade your privacy," he said. "But I heard it ding a couple times."

Elspeth took it from him with shaking hands. She tapped the screen and looked at it. Then she dropped it on the table.

I looked at her. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head.

I pointed to the phone. "You mind?"

She shook her head again. Spike moved closer to me. I picked up the phone. A series of texts striped the screen, all from that same number.

BE SMART. PLAY DUMB.

IF U TALK, U R DEAD

Wanna join Trevor????

Bitch.

I'm always awake. I'm always watching.

"Jesus," Spike whispered.

The last text contained an image of the front of my building at night, my face in the living room window, my hand holding back the curtain. The shot had been taken after Elspeth had fallen asleep, when I'd peered up and down the street and seen no one.

The hairs on the back of my neck had been right.

I looked at Elspeth. She'd put down my clothes and she was trembling, her arms pressed against her stomach, as though she was literally trying to hold herself together.

"I can't talk to the police," Elspeth whispered. "He'll know. He's watching."

My gaze returned to the screen, a thought sneaking up on me. "We can draw him out," I said. "I know something about him that he may not even know himself."

"What do you mean?" Elspeth asked.

"You mind if I text him?"

"What are you going to say?"

I took the phone from her and typed in a text: Heads up: Moon Monaghan's guys are after u. They say u owe them a shit-ton of money and if you don't pay up, U R gonna be dead for real .

It wasn't up to my usual standards eloquence-wise, but I figured I'd put it into language that a wannabe gangster like Dylan could understand and respect. I showed the text to Elspeth. "It's the truth," I said. "Before I got home last night, I got chased by this Mafia asshole because I had Dylan's phone and they were tracking it. He nearly got us into a car accident." I looked at Spike. "Shit, that reminds me. I still have his gun in my purse."

"Jeez, you're so absent-minded lately," Spike said. "Call Desmond. Do I have to write it on your hand?"

"No, you don't," I said. "I just happen to have a lot on my mind."

"Obviously."

Elspeth's gaze darted from me to Spike and back again, as though she was watching a tennis match. "You guys lost me," she said.

I put my back to Spike and spoke directly to her. "Okay, so as I was saying, Dylan really does owe money to Moon, and this text could scare him into doing something."

"Like what?" Elspeth said.

"Like…paying up. Maybe moving around some funds to do it. We could keep our eyes on his accounts. And I can keep my eye on Moon."

"How?"

"His boss is my ex-father-in-law."

Her eyes widened. "Wow. Small world."

"Small town," I said.

"Seriously."

"At the very least," I said, "this should give Dylan something else to focus on besides, well…you."

Elspeth nodded. "Send the text," she said.

I did. We watched the screen. We saw bubbles. Then stillness. Then bubbles again. We kept watching. We waited. But the reply never came.

"Looks like somebody's a little spooked," Spike said.

Elspeth smiled. She picked up the clothes I lent her. "I fucking hope so," she said.