The 6:20 Man

Chapter 70

“Dude?” said Valentine early that afternoon as Devine and Montgomery walked in the front door. Devine was hefting two large suitcases while Montgomery carried a smaller one.

“Hey, Will, this is Michelle.”

Valentine eyed Montgomery and smiled. He quickly stood from his usual perch on the couch and put out his hand. Montgomery set her bag down and shook it.

“Hello, Will.”

“Hello, Michelle,” said Valentine, giving Devine a look along with arched eyebrows. “That is lovely name.”

“Michelle is going to stay here for a bit, in my room.”

“Dude,” said Valentine with another shit-eating grin.

“While I sleep on the couch.”

“Oh, right,” said Valentine. “On couch.”

“Which means you have to sleep in your bed, at least for tonight,” said Devine.

This possibility apparently hadn’t occurred to Valentine. “Oh, okay,” he said, his smile fading.

If the Russian was aware that Helen Speers had been in his room, he certainly wasn’t showing it. For a security expert, he was lax about his own security, thought Devine.

Devine led Montgomery up to his room and they put her things down in the corner.

“I’ll just pull out what I need for tonight,” she said. “I’m sure I can find a place in the morning.”

“I’ve already texted Campbell. He’s on it.”

“I still can’t believe that Christian is dead.”

“You sleep with a cobra, you get bit.”

“So, these people are just going to get away with it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But what can you do about it? Your boss said the whole thing might come tumbling down because of a bunch of corrupt politicians.”

“But we still have a shot.”

“Who’s your friend, Travis?”

They turned to see Helen Speers standing in the doorway. She had on a red dress and black pumps. Her hair was done in a French braid. A briefcase was in one hand. She eyed Montgomery inquiringly.

“This is Michelle Montgomery. Michelle, Helen Speers, a recent NYU Law grad.”

The women shook hands and eyed each other with what Devine thought were aggressive looks.

“Michelle will be staying here tonight.”

“Here, in your room?”

“I’m bunking on the couch.”

“Does poor Will know? That’s basically his second home.”

“He knows.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to... arrange things. Nice to meet you, Michelle. Let’s get together again, Travis, after tonight.”

She walked off. Hands on hips, Montgomery immediately faced off with Devine and said, “What was all that about?”

“What was what all about?”

“Oh, please. You two have a thing going.”

Devine went over and closed the door. “No we don’t. We’re just roommates.”

“Just roommates don’t give women who are moving into a guy’s bedroom that look. She might as well have peed on the floor to mark her territory.”

Devine closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He did not want to get into all that, and he certainly didn’t want to tell Montgomery that he and Speers had slept together.

“All I can say is there is nothing between us.” Except for a pair of guns, he thought. And secrets.

Later they went to get some dinner in Mount Kisco. The TV on the restaurant wall had the latest details about the murder of Christian Chilton and his body’s being found in Brad Cowl’s pool. The news said nothing with regard to the whereabouts of the missing magnate.

They walked back to the town house to find Jill Tapshaw and Valentine chatting in the kitchen.

“Hello,” said Tapshaw to Montgomery. “I’m Jill.”

Devine said quickly, “Jill, this is Michelle Montgomery, she’s a friend from—”

“—the city,” filled in Montgomery. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jill founded Hummingbird.”

“The dating service? I’ve been on there. It’s really cool.”

“You’ve been on a dating site?” said Devine, while Valentine gaped.

Tapshaw frowned. “Dating services, at least the good kind, are for everyone looking for relationships.”

“Travis told me that Sara Ewes was on Hummingbird,” said Montgomery.

“That’s right,” said Tapshaw. “She was one of my first hundred subscribers.”

Devine stared down at his hands because he didn’t want anyone to see his expression. I don’t remember mentioning that to Michelle.

Later, while Montgomery was in his bathroom, Devine slipped into his room, got his gun, and put it in the back of his waistband, then slid his shirt over the weapon to hide it.

Montgomery came out of the bathroom wearing loose-fitting athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, you know.” When he shot her a glance she added, “Men and women have been known to sleep in the same bed without having sex.”

“Yeah, married men and women,” Devine quipped. “I’ll be safer on the couch.”

He fell asleep quickly, but in his dreams he once more saw the dead faces of Blankenship and Hawkins. He tried to say something in his sleep, answer their haunting looks in some way, but he couldn’t. Yet it did manage to wake him up.

And he just lay there staring at the ceiling and wondering when this would all be over. And whether he would be there to see it.

Just like in the Middle East, the odds are not looking to be in my favor.