Lassiter

20 Just Like the Rest of Them

I had nearly turned around after leaving Ziegler’s office. I wanted to crash back through the door, hoist him from his chair by his designer lapels, and toss him through a wall. Let all those certificates and plaques come raining down. But I knew my anger was with myself, not him. I’d given Ziegler the ammunition and the weapon, and he’d been happy to blow me away.

I took a cab home, showered, and changed into fresh shorts and T-shirt. I called Amy’s cell and told her we needed to talk. I didn’t tell her I had a confession to make. She said she was going jogging on the beach, trying to sweat out her frustrations and clear her mind.

I drove across the Rickenbacker Causeway, watching a line of thunderheads rumble across open water toward Key Biscayne. Summer in Miami, where it rains every afternoon at 3:17 P.M., give or take.

I caught up with Amy on the white sand near the old lighthouse at the southern tip of the island. She wore cutoffs and a red bikini top and was Ohio pale, but her carved abs and rounded delts revealed she was no stranger to the gym.

I needed to tell her the truth about my night with Krista. If she heard it from Ziegler instead of me, I’d lose whatever trust I’d struggled to build. Amy might even begin to suspect me again in her sister’s disappearance. That’s the problem with lies and cover-ups. They make the underlying wrong seem even more grievous.

“I want you to take precautions,” I told her, as wind gusts rustled the palm fronds and swirled loose sand across the dunes. I couldn’t bring myself to confess. Instead, I stalled.

“Why?”

“Ziegler’s rattled and he’s called in reinforcements.”

I told Amy about the two tough guys in a Lincoln and my confrontation with Perlow and Ziegler, the old gangster and the new humanitarian.

“Perlow’s the one who concerns me,” I said. “He looks soft as a nougat but he’s got flint and steel in his eyes.”

“So we must be on to something.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what. Just promise you’ll be careful, and if you feel threatened in any way, you’ll call me, day or night.”

“Okay, sure. And thanks for caring, Jake.”

Saying it as if she wasn’t used to anyone giving a shit about her.

“You might think about moving out of the motel,” I added.

“Where to?”

“I have an extra bedroom.”

She looked at me with suspicion. Of course, that was a main component of her character.

“Hey, c’mon. No strings attached. If I wanted more, I’d come to your motel.”

“Really?”

“What I meant was, I have my nephew and Granny at home. It’s not exactly a bachelor pad.”

She was shaking her head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I was just thinking that eighteen years ago, Krista asked if she could spend the night at your place. But you turned her down.”

“Actually …”

“What?”

A dozen terns, which had been pecking away at the wet sand, took to the air. I wanted to fly with them. But I took a deep breath of sea air and told her the truth. That I had taken Krista home with me, knowing deep down that it wasn’t to protect her from the night. That she offered herself, as I knew she would, and I wasn’t man enough to turn her down. As I spoke, the squall hit us, the rain driven sideways, fat juicy drops, warm as spit. A jagged lightning bolt passed over the island and hit on the bay side with a thunderclap that hurt my ears.

When I got to the part where I dropped Krista off in the morning, delivering her to the man I now knew to be Charlie Ziegler, Amy’s face froze. She turned away and looked out to sea.

“You’re just like the rest of them,” she said, staring at the whitecaps sloshing toward the beach.

“Them?”

“Men!”

Without warning, she whirled and hit me, her fist bouncing off my temple. It didn’t hurt, but the surprise knocked me a step sideways. She swung again. And again. I did the rope-a-dope, just standing there with my arms up, as a barrage of blows ricocheted off my shoulders and elbows. I let her punch herself out until, exhausted, she dropped to one knee, sobbing. Lightning zinged across the sky, followed by a thunderclap.

I crouched next to Amy in the wet sand at the water’s edge. “I’m sorry. But I’ll work even harder for you. For Krista.”

“Bastard.”

She said it so softly I could barely hear her over the wind and the rain.

Amy turned and ran up the beach, the wind howling in her wake. I watched until she disappeared. She never looked back.