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“Now Cunniff goes off to jam them up if he getshischance.”
“Trying to add to his own rich and full life.”
“You act like it’s no big deal that he’s not here,” Esposito says. “But being as he’s a highly decorated investigator, I can see that you’re worried about him.”
“Very,” I say again.
I have settled into a nice routine. Talking with Danny Esposito, checking the game, checking my phone, watching the front door, waiting for Jimmy to walk through it.
I know how much I love my sister. I have come to love Dr. Ben Kalinsky.
I love my work, more than I should.
I love the holy hell out of my dog.
But Jimmy, in all the important ways, is the true love of my life.
If something ever happened to him, Iwouldwant to die.
Where is he?
Something happens in the ball game, something that must be good for the Yankees, because the Yankee fans in the place are cheering and clapping.
I check my phone again, the Find My app.
Jimmy’s last location was in the middle of Southampton town.
I look back at the door, trying towillJimmy to come walking through it.
“You think McKenzie and Eric Jacobson could take Jimmy down, if it ever came to that?” Esposito asks.
“Not unless McKenzie has a stockpile of automatic weapons at his house.”
“Then he’ll be here.”
“When?” I snap and slap the bar with the palm of my hand, loud enough that some of the guys at the other end turn to look at me.
Jimmy finally comes walking through the door about fifteen minutes later. I can see how pissed he is before he gets to the bar, or says a word, because that’s how well I know him, he might as well be carrying a sign.
“I got played,” he says, and takes the seat next to Esposito.
He makes a motion to Kenny that he wants a drink and wants it right now.
“Beer, boss?” Kenny asks.
“Bourbon. The good stuff.”
Kenny brings him a glass of what I know is Pappy Van Winkle. Jimmy throws half of it down in one shot.
“Sometimes,” he says, looking past Esposito at me, “I think somebody’s been playing us since we took this freaking case, and trying to run us in circles.”
“But who?” I ask.
“I thought you were supposed to be the brains of this operation,” Jimmy says.
“If you still believe that,” I tell him, “then you’re right. You have been played.”
EIGHTY-SIX
