Mary?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“Ever since Mike-”
She holds up a finger. “No. No. No man can give it to you. Not Mike, and not this other man. No one else can give it to you. It’s inside you. It’s there already.”
“You think?”
“I know. Isn’t that what you told me last night?”
“I guess so.”
“See? I listen,” she says, with a smile.
Suddenly, the chapel bells peal loudly,bong, bong, bong, in some indeterminant hymn. Angie turns toward the sound. “I have to go.” She looks worriedly back at me. “Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Yes.”
She begins to rise. “I have to let you go now, and I have to know you’ll be all right if I do. I was never worried about you before, Mary, but now I am. I prayed all night for you, prayed to God to keep you safe.” Her eyes are brimming with tears.
I stand up and hug her tight. “Read my mind,” I whisper into her habit.
“I know. You love me,” she says, her voice choked.
“Right. Want me to read your mind?”
“No.” She hugs me tighter.
“You love me too.”
The chapel bells fall silent as suddenly as they commenced.
She braces me by the shoulders. Her wet eyes search my face.
“I’ll be okay, Ange.”
“You swear?”
“On a stack of Bibles.”
She laughs and wipes a cheek on her sleeve. “Swear on something else. Somethingyou believe in.”
I give her a quick hug. “Have faith. Now go.”
“Do you know how to get out of here?”
“Do you?”
Angie rolls her eyes. “I have to go. The gate’s over that way. Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
She kisses my cheek, then runs off toward the convent. Midway down the garden path, she gathers her skirt into her hands so she can run faster.
“Way to go!” I call after her.
She looks back with a sly smile. Then off she runs, with her veil flying and her black wool leggings churning away.
26
Clouds of steam billow around me. The water superheats my skin. My blood pumps faster; my thoughts flow like quicksilver. I’m taking a steaming hot shower in Stalling’s locker room on the second floor, Anger.
How perfect.
I’m angry at myself, for rolling over like a puppy for whatever devil is out there, trying to hurt me. But no longer.
Angie was right. I preached to her to face life, but when I got scared, I ran too. But like Brent says, that was then and this is now. I had an epiphany as I drove back to the city, hurtling into a cloudless dawn on a Route I empty of travelers. I found my river, but its source sure as hell isn’t my faith in God. And it doesn’t flow with holy water, but with something closer to bile, at least right now. Whatever it is that drives me, it’s why I became a lawyer in the first place. Every day on my job I fuck back professionally for Stalling’s clients, and I like it. Well, I’ve decided it’s time to start fucking back for myself. I’m not going to run for my life anymore, I’m going to fight for it.
I twist off the water and step dripping out of the shower. I towel off and slip into a white linen dress that I keep in my locker. I dry my hair quickly, ignoring the blotches aflame on my chest. I unlock the locker room door and head for my office.
The big clock stares at me. 7:56. I stare right back. Lying abandoned on my desk is Ned’s bouquet of roses. They’re wilted, but still holding their perfume. I take a deep breath and toss them into the wastebasket. I try not to look back as I pick up the telephone receiver and punch in the numbers from the Rolodex. It turns out that Detective Lombardo answers his own phone.
“How’s your nose this morning, Lombardo?”
“Who is this?”
“Mary DiNunzio, remember me? The crazy widow? The one you tried to convince it’s all in her head? I saw Berkowitz clean your clock, Lombardo, and I want to know why.”
“Mary, jeez. It’s not…you gotta ask Sam, I can’t say any more.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s confidential.”
“What about this investigation could possibly be confidential from me? Brent was my friend. Mike was my husband.”
“Let me get my jacket off, okay? I just got in. Christ, you’re worse than that Amazon you sent over.”
“Amazon?”
“Your friend Carrier. She came in here last night and read me the riot act. What is it, you both on the rag?”
My blood boils over. “You got a house, Lombardo? A car? You like your job? Your pension?”
“What?”
“So how come you didn’t investigate this matter when I first made a report?”
“What are you talkin’ about, Mary? You never made a report!”
“The hell I didn’t, you must’ve lost it. So it’s your word against mine. Which would you believe-that the young widow is a filthy liar or that a city employee lost a form? Please. It’s not even close.”
“You would-”
“My memory is crystal clear. I came down to the station. We met. I told you about the car that was following me and my secretary. The next day he’s dead, hit by the same car I warned you about. You ever been sued, Lombardo?”
“What’s this all-”
“You were negligent, pal. You denied me my civil rights. I’m gonna take your shitty little house and your car. I’ll garnish every paycheck you ever get.”
“Don’t you threaten me!”
“I’ll make your life a living hell. I know how to do it, you understand? It’s my job. I’m a lawyer.”
“Now wait a minute-”
“Brent was gay, maybe that’s why you didn’t investigate. You can always tell, that’s what you said. And something else, something about your brother being ‘light in the loafers.’ I love that colloquial stuff. It’ll look so good in the complaint. It lends realism, don’t you agree?”
“You’re crazy!”
“A line like that, could be the newspapers will pick it up. In fact, why leave it to chance? I’ll send them a copy of the complaint-maybe ten copies, to play it safe.”
“I don’t have to listen to this.”
“Yes, you do. You do have to listen, Lombardo, and you will if you’re smart. What I need from you is protection. Low-profile confidential protection from whoever’s trying to hurt me. I want you to do your job, so I can
