Dinner carried on into the wee hours, long after the band had performed and packed for the evening. Davis was in the middle of pouring their second cup of coffee when Willow’s phone went off. She excused herself, leaving the two men at the table.
“William...” Davis started, and the old man reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.
“Shut up. You’re both alive because of the lies we told.”
“You could have told me. The memories were still so real for her.”
“As if they aren’t for you. I was there, remember? I heard you screaming her name before I even got down the hallway. Your face was little more than ribbons of flesh.”
“Stop.”
“No, you stop it! You were right, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. I was proud of you in spite of it. Still am. You wanted so much to prove yourself worthy back then. You did. Tenfold—a hundred-fold.”
“I broke her heart, William. I made promises to her that I had to break to keep us both alive. She has every right to hate me.”
“Well you can see that she doesn’t.”
“She thinks I’m dead, William. Every day I didn’t pick up a phone or come to see about her, I lied to her. Something I swore I would never do.”
“To keep the two of you alive. They weren’t just coming for you that night. They would have used her to get to you. Could you live with that?”
“I didn’t have what they wanted. I never did.”
“That’s not what I asked. Could you live with them hurting her to get to you again?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Do you think you’re not having what they were after mattered to them? They removed the scars, Harlem, not your memory. You knew enough. Cappy Reds adopted you, raised you. You were old enough to put two and two together.” William’s gaze shifted and he released him just as Willow came back to the table pulling at the pale blue shift, she wore over her outfit. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Another fire. Sounds like the same MO but I won’t be sure unless I go on scene.” Willow took a sip from her mug of milk and scraped the hint of foam from her top lip. She rummaged through her purse looking for something.
“What are you doing?” Davis sat back and took her in.
She held up her wallet. “For dinner.”
Davis shook his head as he waved to one of the waitresses. “I’ll need a travel mugs for Ms. Daniels and her father.”
“There’s only one back there besides yours.”
“Give her mine, Lisa.” Davis tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
He knew what Willow was doing but it didn’t make it hurt any less. She didn’t know him and while he felt closer to her, she was still a world away. At one point during dinner she was talking to her father and she reached for her glass of water. He switched his own full glass for hers. Davis noticed a strange light flickering in William’s eyes as he turned back to his daughter’s conversation.
“You don’t charge family.” Davis cleared his throat. “Only family could speak with as much love and admiration for the Black Arts movement as you two did this evening. It’s on me.”
“Davis, I can’t let you—” Willow started as she continued thumbing through the wallet.
“You’re not letting me do anything. I own the place, remember? Unless of course you’d rather risk offending me instead? “
“No, of course not... We pay what we—”
“Yes, we pay what we owe.” He finished for her. His eyes darted to William’s and the old man smiled. “Let me take care of you. I want to, Willow.”
Davis knew how it sounded, but he didn’t care anymore. To the world and maybe to her he was still a stranger. Out of the corner of his eye Davis saw the old man sigh with relief and take a sip of coffee.
Just then Davis’s phone started ringing. Willow glanced down at the tabletop. “Sounds like you’re needed somewhere too. Dad, you coming?”
The pain in her voice was infectious. Davis shot a look at the old man to see him smiling softly. Good, William’s eyes seemed to say. At least she’s not the only one hurting anymore. He walked them to the door and William slowed his pace until Davis finally blocked him in.
“She’s angry with me. There is no one else. Make her understand that. There was never anyone else. Can’t say the same for her though, can I?” Davis felt the ring box in his pocket, dug it out and handed it to William.
The old man shot a look at him. “You think this means anything? Everything fell short of you. It’s why she stayed away so long.” William looked at the black velvet box and opened it. “Even if there was someone else, you were dead. She was dead to you. No one expected either of you to remain chaste. I’m sure you both did your dirt. But if Kyle Endicott mattered, she’d be wearing this ring, wouldn’t she?” He pocketed the box. “She grew out of your ring, but she never outgrew you.”
“Dad, please I gotta go,” Willow called from the doorway.
“William, wait... Endicott... my ring... wait.”
“She showed me the inscription: ‘Always with you.’ And whether you realize it or not, Harlem, you have been. One look around this place tells me plenty. She’s been right here with you, too.” William hurried over to Willow’s truck and climbed in.
Walking back into the club, Davis dug the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Chudleigh’s name flashed in green before his eyes.
“You were here earlier today, and you didn’t stop up.”
“You’ll have my reports tomorrow. Is Kyle Endicott in the building?”
“Your case wrapped up weeks ago. Whatever you give us now is icing. You’re done there. You ready to decompress and come up for air?”
Davis took in a deep breath and looked around the club. He let his gaze drift to the stage where she’d held him and the table where he had his family together again.
“There’s another case brewing down here. Endicott: is he there?”
“You mean the fires. They already have a gun on that. Some wunderkind from Quantico.”
Davis thought of the pale blue shawl she pulled up on her shoulder and it all became too real for him. He ran a shaky hand over his sculpted goatee.
“You want I should let her know about you? This is terrorism home grown but your territory nonetheless.”
“No, I’m already entrenched in the community. Endicott. Is he there?”
“The fuck should I know? Cassiel and Alana Garrett wanted jail time but agreed to retirement because he was already on a path to self-destruction.”
“What’s his address I need to return something to him.” Davis moved behind the bar and snagged a bottle of whiskey and a glass.
“You know they asked about you after that last case. When I told them, you were retiring Cass said it was about time.”
Davis thought of his old supervisor and his strange wife with the hellfire eyes.
“And Alana, what did she have to say?”
“Not much, just ‘Now he can be about his real business.’ Now about the fires. What do you need?”
“Whatever is available on the cases.” Davis downed a shot of whiskey and poured another.
“Dr. Daniels is a real nice lady. I’m sure if you just asked her…”
“Doctor?”
“Refuses to use the title, but yeah. When the Feeb isn’t dragging her from Hell and back she’s a guest lecturer. Double majored in school then went back and did it again. Kinda reminded me of you; driven in the same insane way. Roommates said she never seemed to sleep.”
Davis took the phone away from his ear and tried to catch his breath. Chudleigh couldn’t understand. In the beginning there was no sleep. Not without hearing Willow screaming.
“You still there? Her record keeping is as impeccable as yours. She submits reports through GORD. Shouldn’t be too difficult to send what she has to you.”
“I don’t want her knowing I’m in on this.”
“Why? She may appreciate the help.”
“She thinks I’m a club owner with a vested interest in these fires. That alone makes things complicated. For all she knows I’m a suspect. Knowing what I am could complicate things.”
“Well, that’s you all over. Complicated and cryptic as hell. Okay. Your late invite should be there in an hour.”
“Fine.”
“You know I saw your little exchange with Endicott on CC.”
“And?”
“I could have charged admission.”
Davis straightened his back. “Or prepared the man’s autopsy report. Cause of death: acute stupidity. Is he there?”
“You really can’t stand that man.”
“Endicott’s last screw up cost four agents their lives. Or have you forgotten?”
“Why do you think we’re retiring him?”
“Right now, I owe him an ass kicking for putting his hands on somebody.”
“Another high ticket event. You sound like you’re ready to start another war.”
“No. I’m just going to finish one.”