That it was her, no question. The face and eyes and freckles hadn’t changed. She’d altered her hair—darkened it, cropped it Jean Seberg short. She was holding a wine glass and dressed in flannel and sweats. Shorter than I’d expected, with a more mature and slightly weary posture.
The biggest difference from any pictures I’d seen of her was that Tabitha seemed happy. When Gill returned to the house she kissed him and they went in, arms around each other.
That was the case. And yet finding her begged a whole series of other questions.
It was Dana Essex’s money I was taking, so she’d be the first to know. How to tell her would be the problem. She’d seen Tabitha as her romantic salvation. But Tabitha was involved with someone, which Essex would also have to learn. However I broke it to my client, the news meant a broken heart.
Well, hearts break. They break and break. Hers was no different.
I hunt-and-pecked out my report, then saved it to the company’s cloud storage. I thought of Tabitha and the modest house on Quebec Street. What was that saying about fortunes and crime? Some fortune. All the risks and manipulations had been done so that she and Gill could live in a real house, in a real neighborhood, like their parents had done. It put her suburban rebellion in perspective. But it also served as a sad commentary on the city and the times. You want to live here, on your own terms? Be prepared to steal.
I was reading over the report, sitting near my window on Pender Street, when a knock on the office door interrupted. I opened it, thinking it would be Kay, hungover and looking for clerical work to kill the afternoon.
Instead, Chris Chambers leaned on the frame, grinning down at me. Dressed in slacks and a suede jacket, a peaked tweed cap on his head. He had a brown paper bag in his left hand.
“Dave,” he said, grabbing my hand. “You remember me? We met a couple of times when you were still on the job. Rough deal, that. Feel like a taste of Glenlivet?”
I showed him in. Chambers took in the room, not impressed but keeping it amiable. I poured some of his scotch into two office mugs and took mine to the chair behind the desk.
“Main office is on West Hastings,” I said.
“And this is your fortress of solitude?” He showed his capped teeth. “Place to get away. I understand. Sláinte.”
He raised his mug and drank to my health, refilled and topped mine up liberally.
“Might seem funny,” he said, “but I feel I know you pretty well. You’re the subject of a lot of conversations I’ve been having.”
“Oh?”
“From what my partner tells me, you and she are close. Sonia Drego?”
“I know Sonia,” I said.
“From what I hear.” He mock-saluted. “She’s a fine girl. And not a bad little police, either.”
“Much better than I was.”
“You feel safe going through a door with her, which is not something I can say about every female officer I’ve served with.” He drank quickly and shuddered. “Male either. Also knew your foster father a bit. He was still walking the Sixth when I was coming up. Good man and a goddamn shame what happened to him. Car accident, wasn’t it?” I nodded and he reiterated, “A damn shame.”
I sipped the whiskey. It burned pleasantly. I waited for Chambers to come around to it.
“You must miss him,” Chambers said at length.
“Sure.”
“He raised you.”
“Him and my mother, foster mother, yeah.”
“Nice you found Sonia,” he said, “the two of you both not having much family and all.”
I nodded, thinking of the way Chambers had mangled Miles’s hand. My expression remained neutral.
“I was like that myself,” Chambers said. “Father not around, mom working and splitting her time ’tween me and her other family. Rough world.”
“And it doesn’t get easier,” I said.
“Surely does not.” Chambers tipped another shot into my glass, refilled his own. “Cheers. So tell me about work. I hear you and your partner have just about cornered the market. How’d you manage that?”
“Jeff’s a lot smarter than me,” I said. “I just try and keep my head down.”
“Smart.” A touch of sarcasm to the word. “Let me get to why I’m here, Dave. I’m not that far off from my twenty. On account of past mistakes I don’t see myself rising much higher. It’s not worth it to wait till I’m sixty-five. Not if I can do something else. I was hoping you could give me a glimpse into the life, so to speak. Tell me about a few of the things you’re working on.”
“I won’t blab. Fact I might be able to help. I’ve got a few more years logged on the job than Sonia or your buddy Ryan Martz.”
“Glad to share,” I said.
I took him through some of what Wakeland & Chen was working on, leaving out names. Industrial insurance cases, a few pieces of litigation. I explained our corporate security contracts in minute detail, surprising myself at my own level of understanding.
Chambers ate it up. Moses wasn’t a more attentive listener.
“So it’s a mixture of things,” he said. “Just like on the job. I like that. Nothing else on your plate?”
I shrugged. “Jeff keeps talking about expanding into repossessions, but I’m not sure I have the desire to take some poor bastard’s—”
“What about alimony cases?” Chambers said, as if just thinking about it. “I heard something about a tough one you had. Something about a gangster. Asian last name. You and him had some sort of showdown?”
I played it as if I’d almost forgotten the incident. “Right,” I said. “Qiu. He had a deadbeat dad on his payroll. He told me to leave the guy alone.”
“And you didn’t?” Chambers grinned.
“I got the money,” I said.
“Someone threatened me,” Chambers said, “I’d want to even the score.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
He nodded, tilting his head confidingly. “You must at least have thought about it. What was his name again? Chow?”
“Qiu,” I said. “I think it’s about as even as it’ll get.”
“I’m just saying if it was me.” All humor draining out of his voice, his eyes narrowing, putting aside his mug. “I’m saying if there was some way I could help you get retribution, you let me know.”
“Truth is,” I said, “and this humble abode doesn’t bear it out, but I’m making money hand over fist with corporate clients. I might roll past Qiu and put the scare into him, just so he doesn’t think I’ve let my guard down. But I don’t have the time or inclination to start anything. Retribution’s expensive. Up for one last drink?”
Chambers smiled.
“Let’s kill it,” he said.