“I deserve to know,” he said.
“And I at least deserved a husband who played by the rules.”
“Funny. Those were the exact words Jessie used to describe our marriage. Playing by the rules.”
“How ’bout that.”
“Yeah. How ’bout that.”
“Good-bye, Jack.”
He watched her turn and walk away. He kept a beat on the back of her head as she flowed with the crowd along the sidewalk. She was a half-block away when she disappeared amid the sea of bobbing and weaving pedestrians. He spotted her once more, then lost sight of her. For good.
•
It was Saturday night, and Jack escaped to Tobacco Road. When it came to broken spirits, there was no better salve than a dark club with live music and bartender who’d never been stumped by a customer’s request for a cocktail. The really beautiful thing about the Road was the lack of beauty-no glitz, no palm trees at the door, no neon lights of South Beach. It was just a great bar by the river that catered to everyone from Brickell Avenue bankers to the likes of Theo Knight.
“Hey, Jacko, you came.” Theo threw his arms around him, practically wrestled him off his bar stool.
“Of course I came. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Possibly because the only thing worse than having no date on a Saturday night is watching your old pal Theo blow on his saxophone and fight off hordes of groupies.”
Jack looked around, spotted a woman at a table who looked as though she’d been there since last weekend. “I can live with it.”
Theo laughed, then turned serious. “How you been, man?”
“Okay.”
“Hey, I hear Benno Jancowitz is leaving the state attorney’s office.”
“I heard the same thing,” said Jack. “Guess he got tired of prosecuting parking tickets.”
“That blowhard deserved a demotion. I mean, it’s one thing to go after the son of a beloved former governor. But if you’re gonna indict an upstanding character like Theo Knight, you better be damn sure you’re right.”
Jack chuckled, though evidently not hard enough to suit Theo.
“You sure you okay, Jacko?”
“Fine.”
He laid a huge hand on Jack’s shoulder, as if to console. “Sorry about you and Cindy, man.”
“Don’t be. It was over for a long time. Now it’s just official.”
Theo gave a nod, as if promising never to bring it up again, then ordered himself a club soda. “Hey, there’s someone I want you to see.”
“Please, don’t start setting me up already. I just want to have a couple drinks and listen to music. When’s your set starting?”
“Five minutes. But I’m serious. I got someone who’s dying to talk to you.”
He was about to protest, but Theo had already signaled to the other side of the bar. Two women started through the crowd, and at least from a distance it appeared that his friend Theo was doing him quite the favor. One was wearing black leather pants and a fitted red blouse, and Jack wasn’t the only man watching her cross the room. The other was equally striking. He was beginning to think that this single life wasn’t going to be such a bad thing, until he got a good look at the tall brunette. Not that she wasn’t attractive. He was simply taken aback.
“Katrina?”
“Hello, Jack.”
Last Jack had heard, Katrina had helped the feds piece together computer records from Viatical Solutions, Inc., and identify more than a dozen Mafiya-controlled viatical companies, thereby preventing any further suspicious deaths and expedited payoffs. With both Yuri and Vladimir dead, however, the focus of the overall money-laundering investigation had shifted elsewhere, taking Katrina off the hook. It was evident to Jack that she’d resolved to return to a normal life.
Katrina said, “This is my friend Alicia.”
Jack looked at Theo and said, “What’s going on here?”
“I just thought you and Katrina should get to know each other better. Especially since, you know, she and I have become such good friends.” He put his arm around her, pulled her close. They were suddenly making eyes at one other.
“You mean you two are…”
“Does this surprise you?”
“No, no. Not at all. What better way to start a relationship than by putting a gun to a man’s head and kidnapping him?”
“She saved my life.”
“Technically, yes. But wasn’t it a little bit like setting your house on fire and then calling the fire department?”
Katrina’s friend said something to her in Spanish. Jack knew it wasn’t intended for his WASPy ears, but he understood every word. For effect, he answered her in Spanish. “You’re right, Alicia. I’m no Brad Pitt. But once you get to know me, I usually turn out to be slightly smaller than the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.”
Her shock was evident. “Wow. Your Spanish is really good.”
“His mother was Cuban,” said Theo.
“Wow. Your Spanish really-”
“I know, I know. It sucks.”
The way he’d said it, it was clear that he’d been through that routine a thousand times. The reaction was delayed, but finally the four of them shared a little laugh. The ice had broken.
Katrina said, “Can I buy you a drink, Swyteck?”
Jack thought for a minute, then smiled. “What the heck.”
Theo’s band was tuning up on stage. “My gig’s up. Time for me to blow.”
“Just a sec,” said Jack. “How about playing that Donald Byrd song for me. You know. The one from the album, Thank you for…”
“Fucking up my life?”
“That’s the one.”
The threesome laughed, to the exclusion of Katrina’s friend. They alone knew that it was the album Jack had requested when Katrina was holding Theo hostage.
“I’ll play it,” said Theo. “But only if you promise not to make it your theme song.”
“Just this one last time, and that’ll be it.”
“Then what?”
“Who knows?”
“That’s such a great thing, isn’t it? If you ask me, it’s the only way you know you’re alive.”
“What?”
“The fact that you just never know.”
Jack wasn’t quite sure what he meant.
“I’m right, ain’t I?” Theo said with a wink. Then he grabbed his saxophone and ran to the stage.
Jack still didn’t get it, until Theo took center stage and drilled them with the sax, an overly sharp note worthy of Kenny G. He glanced at Katrina, this gorgeous woman with her eyes locked on Theo. At that moment, on some level, it all made incredible sense to him.
He smiled and thought, You’re exactly right, buddy. You just never know.
Acknowledgments
Beyond Suspicion is a sequel to my first published novel, The Pardon. That first Jack Swyteck story was a true labor of love that came into being only after I’d spent four years, nights and weekends, writing a big, fat, multigenerational murder mystery that now collects dust on a closet shelf. Six novels later, I have to say that the best part about returning to my debut was the time spent reflecting on a point in my life when I didn’t have time to start writing until eleven o’clock at night, and when I wouldn’t stop pecking away until long after Tiffany had fallen asleep on the couch with the latest draft pages spilled at her side. Thanks, Tiff, for being there when it all began, and thanks for putting up with me all these years later.
A big thank-you goes to my editor, Carolyn Marino, and my agent, Richard Pine. Both were early fans of The Pardon, and both have left their mark on Beyond Suspicion. I’m also grateful to my team of first readers who endured some very rough drafts, Dr. Gloria M. Grippando, Cece Sanford, Eleanor Rayner, and Carlos Sires. Probate attorney Clay Craig lent his usual expertise, Patrick Battle and Joseph N. Belth provided insights on viatical settlements, and the World Federation of Neurology offered a wealth of information on amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.