The Quiet Game

The knock at the door reverberates through our bodies, stunning us from our trance. Yet still Livy presses herself down against my hand, unwilling to let the world back in. I jerk her away from the door and onto the bed, fearing someone might shoot through the thin metal.

The knocking comes again. This time, with the distance to the bed and with half my faculties restored, it sounds reasonably discreet.

"Who is it?" I call, digging in my pocket for Kelly's gun, hating the ragged edge of fear in my voice.

"Kelly."

Relief cascades through me. I turn to tell Livy everything's all right and find her standing with both hands pointed rigidly at the door, a pistol clenched between them. She must have taken it from her purse.

"Whoa!" I say, holding up my hands. "I know this guy. He's with me."

She lowers the gun slowly, as though unsure whether to trust my judgment. I turn back to the door and open it a crack.

Daniel Kelly's sandy blond head leans toward mine.

"I saw you go in here as I pulled up. I just wanted you to know I'm back."

I nod. "I heard about what happened at the apartments. You must be tired. You can go ahead and get some sleep."

"I'm fine. Wired, really."

I hesitate to ask the next question, but I want to know. "Is Caitlin with you?"

An ironic smile, there and gone. "She's back at the paper, writing the story. She's a tough lady, man."

Coming from Daniel Kelly, this is high praise indeed. "Thanks for looking out for her. And thanks again for the levee thing."

He nods, but there's a curious hesitancy in his face.

"What is it, Kelly?"

"Well, I thought maybe you and Caitlin were… you know." He looks past me, through the crack in the door. "I guess not, huh?"

"I guess not," I reply, feeling a strange hollowness in my chest.

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue. "I'm gonna get some eggs over at Shoney's. One of the other guys'll be watching this door."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and your little girl is fine. No worries."

His words hit me like a blow. Maybe he meant for them to. My cheeks burn with self-disgust.

" 'Night, boss," he says, and disappears from the crack.

I shut the door and bolt it.

Livy is sitting on the bed, her face composed, the gun nowhere in evidence. Only her tousled hair hints at our brief encounter at the door.

"Why are you carrying a gun?"

She shrugs. "The town's gone crazy, hasn't it? And Daddy insisted."

Leo would.

Livy's shoes, hose, and panties lie on the floor beside her bare feet. She looks at me like she can't understand why I'm still standing where I am. Like what happened against the door was the opening movement of a symphony.

I glance at my watch. Twelve-twenty. Annie is almost certainly asleep, but Kelly's words have left me with a guilty longing, like an unresolved chord. I need to see my daughter sleeping.

"I need to check on Annie."

Livy stands and takes my hand, pulls me toward her. "I know."

"I mean it."

"I know." She puts her arms around my waist and pulls me against her.

"Livy-"

She kisses my nipple through my shirt. The sharp edges of her teeth pull at flesh and wet cloth, sending a delicious current of pain through me.

"It'll only take a minute," I tell her. "I'll be right-"

With three or four quick movements she unbuckles my pants and pushes them far enough down to free me, then entwines her fingers behind my neck. When I try to speak, she takes my right hand and lifts it to my mouth, cutting off my words. Her scent on my fingers is overpowering.

"Me first," she whispers.

Even as I despise myself for it, in one violent motion I reach beneath her dress, lift her into the air, and set her down upon me.

CHAPTER 29

I am parked in the alley between Wall and Pearl Streets, the legal center of the city. It's nearly dark and raining steadily, a drizzle with a breath of fall in it. The courthouse towers above me on its pedestal of earth, grayish-white and imposing amid the windblown oaks that surround it. Across the street, running down the block in a line, stand the offices of various law firms, all of them small, most very profitable. The most prestigious among them is Marston, Sims. Founded in 1887 by Ambrose Marston, Leo's great grandfather, the firm has handled everything from high-profile criminal cases to corporate litigation involving tens of millions of dollars. And I am parked in this alley to see whether the senior partner of the firm will commit a felony tonight.