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them?” I said, nodding in the direction of a young Lampone and younger Erwin.

I didn’t figure Joey caught the irony that Roberta Lampone was a woman.

“Unless they happen to be very good at what they do.”

Joey leaned sideways, to see around me. “Jimmy?”

Erwin lifted himself off the bar and walked to the table.

“Mr. DeMio?”

“Jimmy, you heard anything about kid shooters, teenagers? On the street, you heard anything?”

Erwin shifted from one foot to the other, nervous. “Wouldn’t know about that, Mr. DeMio. Lot of guys think they’re shooters.”

Joey offered a wave of his hand, and Erwin retreated to his spot at the bar.

Joey tilted his head, waiting for my response, like I should be satisfied. Maybe I was.

“Let me ask you this,” I said. “Since everything, so you say, is your business. Anybody else running a gang around here?”

“A gang trying to muscle in on us?” Joey said. “Nobody’s stupid enough to try that.”

Harper jumped in, saying, “What Mr. DeMio means is that our business is unique. That we have no competitors.”

Joey smiled. “Man’s got a point, counselor.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “But you know who to ask when you need guns.”

Joey shrugged. “LaCroix knows who to ask, too. Isn’t that right, LaCroix?”

Henri stared at the opposite wall like he hadn’t heard the question.

“You knew how to find those two,” I gestured at Erwin and Lampone, “when you needed fresh guns to replace Cicci and Rosato.”

“Will there be anything else, counselor?”

I glanced at Harper, then Joey. “You called me, remember?”

Joey nodded. “Don’t forget, counselor, as long as your interests don’t conflict with my interests … don’t let that happen.”

“I’ll give it serious thought, Joey,” I said, and slid my chair back. “One more thing, you ever heard of the Cavendish Company? Out of Gaylord?”

Joey shot a quick glance at Harper, but I caught it. Neither man recognized the name. Joey shook his head.

I stood, and Henri moved away from his end of the bar. So did Jimmy Erwin.

I moved past Henri, who followed me toward the door.

“Take it easy, Bobbie,” I said to Roberta Lampone, but her eyes remained on Henri as I went past.

“You too, Jimmy,” Henri said as he went by.

Jimmy Erwin nodded.

Once outside, we walked up Lake Street with the cool of shade on our side.

“What do you think?” I said to Henri.

“Is Joey being straight, you mean? Hell if I know.”

“Well, you can guess, damn it.”

Henri pulled up, almost stopped. I slowed until he was next to me again.

“What’s up, Russo? First Sandy, now me. I don’t care about your …”

“Then why are you asking?”

Henri stopped a few steps from McLean & Eakin’s front window. We edged ourselves to the curb on the crowded sidewalk.

“You’ve made cracks to me before, you’ll do it again. But we’re on the job right now, your head’s someplace else. That worries me. We assumed Joey would be easy, but we didn’t know. We never know. Those two guns leaning on the bar were working, too, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“You talked to AJ before we left the office. You barked at Sandy. And the other night at Chandler’s … you and AJ. What’s going on?”

“Not sure,” I said. “Leave it alone, will you?”

Henri nodded slowly. “I’ll leave it alone, Russo, unless …”

“Unless, what?”

“Unless it gets in the way. Unless your mind’s not on the job. I don’t want to go up against men with guns, you not focused. Are we clear?”

“We’re clear.”

We stood quietly, uneasily. Henri and I’ve always seen the world the same way. We’ve only argued about how to get the job done.

The uneasy moment passed slowly.

“You asked me if Joey was straight with us?” Henri said, breaking the awkward silence.

I nodded.

“You’re the one said Joey’s after Lenny. What do you think?”

“Doesn’t add up, Henri. Not anymore. Joey’s hands are dirty, but I don’t think he’s behind this.”

“Then who is?”

“Let’s see what Fleener’s gang expert turns up about ‘44’ first.”

“Okay,” Henri said. “You gonna call AJ?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Make nice, Russo.”

27

Henri walked away up Lake Street, and I went upstairs to the office. Sandy was gone for the day, but she left a sticky note with two unimportant messages. I sat down and tapped AJ’s number.

“It went okay, I take it?” she said.

“Yeah. I cleared up a couple of things about Lenny’s book tour, that’s all.”

Silence. We often shared silence. We were comfortable with it. But not this time. This time it felt forced.

I spoke first. “Yeah, Joey doesn’t like the idea we think he’s behind this.”

“So you’ve said.”

Our conversation was lifeless, perfunctory. Fear drove AJ’s conversation the other night.

“I think Joey really didn’t have anything to do with Kate Hubbell’s murder.”

“You’ve said that, too.”

I thought I was being helpful, filling her in like I’d done so many times before.

“I’m going to run over to Palette Bistro,” I said, “get something to eat. Want to meet me?”

“I just made a sandwich,” she said. “Thought I’d catch up on a little work. Busy day tomorrow.”

“All your days are busy, AJ.” That sounded frustrated. Well, I was

frustrated. “Put the sandwich in the refrigerator. We’ll split a couple of small plates.”

“I … I’m not …”

“Don’t you want to meet me, AJ?” That didn’t sound much better.

“Michael, it isn’t about …”

“What is it about, AJ?”

“It isn’t about meeting you. It isn’t that.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t get pissy with me, Michael.”

“I’m not … I’m trying …”

“Trying what?”

“To figure out the other night, AJ.”

“The other night? You’re pissed right now.”

“I just … I just asked if you were hungry.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You said that the other night, AJ.”

“I meant it then, too.”

I stopped. This wasn’t good — I wasn’t sure what I was talking about or reacting to. Did AJ know what she was talking about? I wasn’t sure. Our conversation, if that’s what it was, needed to stop. Right now, it needed to stop, or it would get worse.

AJ was quiet, too.

After a few moments, I said, “Kate’s memorial is tomorrow. Over in Indian River.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going?”

“Lenny wants to write the piece himself. About the service.”

I should have just said good-bye and let

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