The woman took a quick look and stuffed them in her bra.
“I’ll hang onto these,” she said.
River almost pulled them out but decided he didn’t need them. He needed information more.
“So, were they having an affair and did it die out three months ago?”
“No.”
“No affair?”
“Yes, affair, but no, it didn’t die out three months ago.
River looked at the wine bottle.
“You know what? Is that offer still open?”
It was.
She got him a glass.
It was red and sweet and dropped tingly down his throat, then straight into his blood.
Everything softened.
“What caused the explosion?”
“I don’t know. She was pretty private about it.”
River studied the woman’s eyes.
They darted.
“Was she blackmailing him?”
The woman looked away as if contemplating an exit, then held River’s eyes for a heartbeat before diverting.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Okay,
“Was she threatening to go to the wife about the affair?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“I don’t know. It was something else.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it something she found out about him?”
The woman nodded.
“Yes but I don’t know what.”
“Sure you do.”
“Honest, I don’t,” she said. “All I know is that it was something big. Charley-Anna kept a diary. I tore this place apart looking for it but couldn’t find it.”
River took a long swallow of wine.
“Did you tell all this to the police?”
No.
She didn’t.
“Why not?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
River tilted his head.
“Bullshit,” he said. “You didn’t tell them because you were in on the whole thing with Charley-Anna.”
“You have a wild imagination.”
“That’s why you just now took the tickets,” he said. “If nothing else, you can threaten to tell the wife about the affair.”
“That’s crazy.”
River stood up.
“My guess is that Charley-Anna never told Bluetone about your involvement,” he said. “That’s why you’re still alive. My advice is to drop the whole thing while the dropping’s good.”
The woman wrinkled her nose.
“If everything was as you say, why would I have told you all the stuff I just did?”
“Because you’re scared.”
She shook her head.
“You have a wild imagination.”
River headed for the door.
Over his shoulder he said, “You got yourself in deep. Get yourself out if you can.”
Then he was gone.
Ten seconds later he was back.
“Give me a pencil.”
She did.
River scribbled something down.
“That’s my phone number,” he said. “Use it if you need it.”
“Sure.”
“Promise me.”
“I said sure.”
“Sure isn’t a promise.”
The woman exhaled.
“Okay, I promise.”
River nodded.
“That’s better.”
Then he was gone.
Back at the car he slid behind the wheel, gave January a kiss and cranked over the engine.
“Where’s the gun?”
She handed it to him.
“Prepare to get wet,” he said.
“Why?”
“We’re going home but we’re going to park a half-mile out and head in on foot.”
Silence.
“You’re going to let me come with you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say no you’re not going to listen anyway.”
She smiled.
“You’re starting to get to know me.”
67
Wilde snuck silently in the raven-haired lawyer’s back door using the key she gave him.
