Part 8 (1/2)

”Michael doesn't seem the type to take s.h.i.+t from anyone.”

”Well, that's usually true. Michael can be obstinate and even scary when he's angry.”

”Oh, I know that. I remember when I was in his office, trying to get onto his laptop.”

Both of us were silent for a moment. We had never talked specifically about how I had helped to bring her husband down.

Lucy shook her head as if not wanting to think about it. ”Anyway, Dez is incredibly arrogant. He expects everyone to jump around and do whatever he wants. It's like he thinks he's a king, and he's ent.i.tled to being treated like a king.” She wore an irritated scowl on her face. ”I wouldn't see him again, Izzy.”

”Trust me, I'm not going to be seeing Dez again. He doesn't even know my real name.”

”And I've never told Michael your name. I never even told him that we saw each other when he was in jail.”

I started to reply, but something across the room caught my eye. Something dark. Something almost hidden behind a huge fern. I looked closer, jutting my head forward as I squinted across the room.

It was a man, I realized. A man wearing black jeans and a black jacket. He moved to the left, blocking the doors we had come in. My eyes searched for the exit doors, saw another man.

And right then I realized I was wrong. I would, in fact, be seeing Dez Romano again. He was standing right in front of the exit, his arms crossed, and he was looking right at me.

12.

M y eyes shot around the place. There had been at least six other people in the room when we entered. Now it was just Lucy and me and the kids, who were bending over a fern in the corner, pointing at hovering b.u.t.terflies.

”Lucy,” I said, my voice low.

Her eyes narrowed. She looked at the man by the entrance. She called quietly for her kids to come to her.

”Lucy,” I said again, pointing as surrept.i.tiously as possible to Dez Romano, who stood, blocking the exit, giving a hostile, cold stare that scared the h.e.l.l out of me.

She stood. ”Dez, what are you doing here?”

He took a few steps toward us, arms still crossed. He wore soft-looking camel pants and a houndstooth jacket. ”I came to say h.e.l.lo to Suzanne. Or is it Isabel? Or should I say 'Izzy'?” He gave me a cool, level stare. ”Or wait. Should I say Izzy McNeil? That's right, isn't it?”

I stood alongside Lucy. We looked at each other; her eyes were pained.

”I'm sorry,” she said, her voice still low.

”Did you know this was going to happen?” I whispered.

”No!” Her eyes went big, scared. ”G.o.d, no.”

”Then how?”

”Michael must be taping my phone conversations. Or maybe everything in my house.” Her voice was anguished.

”Lucy, you should get the kids out of here.”

She glanced around, and raising her voice said, ”Noah. Belle. Come here.”

The humidity in the room seemed to be pus.h.i.+ng downward, making it hard to breathe.

Dez smiled at me. A triumphant smile. ”You and I have some talking to do, little girl.”

The kids ran up to Lucy. They were quiet, eyes big, as if they'd just noticed the heavy, frightening weight in the room. Lucy wrapped her arms around them. ”Where's Michael?” she said.

Dez shrugged, didn't take his eyes off me. ”No idea. We don't work together anymore. Why don't you take off, Lucy?”

”I'm not leaving my friend.”

”Oh, you're friends, are you?”

I turned to her. ”Just go. If something happened to the kids I'd feel terrible.”

Lucy looked conflicted.

”It's okay,” I said. I leaned toward her and whispered, ”Call Mayburn when you're outside.” My whisper sounded calm, even authoritative, but panic was thumping in my chest.

Dez glanced at the guy in black and nodded. The guy took a few steps into the room. He looked about my age, maybe thirty, but his face was twisted somehow, as if he'd seen centuries of wars and strife. His neck was tattooed with a mult.i.tude of what looked like grotesque images-b.l.o.o.d.y knives, disembodied heads and a large circle with a capital A inside it.

”Mommy?” Belle said, her voice a scared whimper.

”Lucy, go,” I said.

The guy in black took another step into the room. So did Dez. He waved a hand behind him at the exit. ”See ya later, Lucy. We've got everything we need here.”

It was said in such a demeaning tone that I could feel Lucy bristle. She threw her shoulders back, then hugged her kids closer, hesitating.

”Mom?” Noah asked.

”We're going home,” she said. ”And Izzy is coming with us.” She started to move forward. She put a hand on my arm, tugging me with her.

”Oh, no,” Dez said, laughing. ”Izzy is not going anywhere.” Beyond one of his shoulders, two black b.u.t.terflies circled lazily, like tiny vultures around a corpse.

What did he want? What was he going to do?

”We're leaving,” Lucy said, ”and you're going to leave all of us alone.”

Another chuckle, then the smile dropped. ”Get the f.u.c.k out of here, Lucy, and take those kids, or I'm going to stop being nice about it.”

A deafening siren pierced the room. The kids threw their hands over their ears.

Dez pulled a cell phone from his breast pocket, opened it, typed something in as if he was texting. The siren stopped in the room, although we could still hear it outside.

”The whole place is being evacuated,” Dez said. ”Small fire apparently.”

Lucy and I looked at each other.