Lane walked toward his office. “Lane?” He turned. Lori was holding the phone against her breast. “I checked on Andelko Branimir for you. It looks like his family still lives in town. And I could find nothing on file for a missing person named Branimir or Goran.”
“How can he not have been reported missing?” Lane asked.
Lori shook her head. “Don’t know. And…” she hesitated. “…how’s Arthur?”
Lane shrugged. “We’re waiting to find out.”
Fashionably late. That’s what his sister-in-law would call it. A busy schedule is essential. As a result, arriving late is, well, expected of one. Being on time would be a social faux pas. Lane looked around the inside of a restaurant he hadn’t visited for nearly a quarter of a century. Hardwood, leather upholstery, waiters and waitresses dressed in black and white, and stained glass windows that prevented passersby from seeing inside. He didn’t need to look at the menu to know it would hold all manner of steak and potato entrées. Instead, he added cream and sugar to his coffee and waited.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek. “So good to see you.” The scent of Margaret’s perfume was almost as overpowering as the artificial sweetness in her voice. Lane felt his appetite disappear.
“Good to see you.” Joseph stood above Lane and to his right. He offered a smile and his hand.
Lane fumbled with his napkin as he rose. He stood, blue eyes to blue eyes, with his brother as they shook hands. Joseph tried to crush Lane’s fingers but found he could not.
Joseph released his brother’s hand and went to pull out the chair for his wife. Lane watched the lunch patrons studying Margaret and Joseph Lane. It was obvious that everyone knew they moved in the most exclusive of social circles. Joseph adjusted his tie and hung his pinstriped navy blue jacket on the back of the chair before he sat. He ran his hand over the shine of his hairless scalp.
“So sorry we’re late. This is such a busy time for us. The meeting with the theatre council went long, and Joseph is working with a client on a merger.” Margaret’s voice was just loud enough to carry to the next four or five tables.
She really needs everyone to hear what’s going on in her life. He looked at her strawberry blonde hair and bronzed skin. “Nice tan.”
“Thank you.” Margaret glanced at Joseph. “We’re planning to winter in Phoenix, so I’ll be able to stay tanned year round.”
Keep talking at that volume, and even the people on the sidewalk will know your plans.
Joseph waved at the waitress hovering nearby, then looked at Lane. “Have you ordered?”
The waitress stood next to Margaret and smiled. “Are you ready to order, Mrs. Lane?”
Neither Margaret nor Joseph looked at the menu. Joseph nodded at Margaret. “I’ll have the veal,” Margaret said, then leaned back so the waitress could take the menu.
“Prime rib. Medium well. Baked potato.” Joseph looked across the table at his brother.
Lane reached for his menu and looked over the salads. “Greek salad, please.” He handed his menu to the waitress.
“Very good. And to drink?” the waitress asked.
Margaret said, “I think a bottle of your best white would be nice.”
“I’ll stick with the coffee,” Lane said.
“Not going to join us in a glass of wine?” Margaret asked as the waitress left.
Lane heard the condescending tone and thought, To hell with you! “No.”
“We’ve been thinking about Dad’s will,” Joseph said.
Thanks for getting right to the point.
“Although you’re not mentioned in the will, we…” Joseph smiled at Margaret. “…would like to make provisions for Christine’s education.”
Margaret said, “She is part of the family, after all.”
“We think the amount we’ve set aside is quite generous,” Joseph said.
The waitress freshened Lane’s coffee. A waiter showed Margaret the label on the bottle of wine. With her nod of approval, the waiter uncorked the bottle. He poured a taste into Margaret’s glass. Mrs. Lane took a sip, smiled, and accepted more.
Lane added a touch of sugar and cream to his coffee. He stirred and sipped. The coffee is remarkably good. Lane put his cup down. “We have a nephew as well.” Lane looked at Margaret.
She blessed Lane with a patronizing smile, then nodded at Joseph who was apparently the one to deal with any and all unpleasantries.
“We have no legal obligation to him,” Joseph said. “Besides, your relationship with your boyfriend does not obligate us in any way to look after his nephew.”
When Lane had time to think back, he realized it was the way his brother said the word “boyfriend”- the condescending, dismissive tone with which Joseph summed up his relationship with Arthur – that triggered what happened next.
Lane focused on the coffee for a moment. “Arthur and I are, in reality, the parents of two teenagers.” He took a breath to restore a measure of calm to his voice, but it did nothing to quell the anger. “We have a responsibility to consider both Christine and Matt. To act in their best interests. Christine is my blood relative. Matt is Arthur’s. They’re our family – my family – and you dismiss them as if they’re of no consequence!”
Margaret sniffed, which Lane interpreted as a gesture of divine arrogance. “Well,” she said, “I’m sure everyone in this room has a different notion from yours when it comes to defining family.”
“Actually, the sarcasm isn’t appreciated.” Lane pushed his chair back and stood. He pulled a fifty out of his pocket and tucked it under his coffee cup. He pushed his chair in and walked away.
“There is really no need to make a scene!” Margaret said. “Your mother always said you were overly emotional. If memory serves, she even made some comment about your right to exist. You see, I was your mother’s confidante.”
Lane stopped. He walked back to the table, leaned forward, and looked at his brother. “Arthur and I have two children. Let’s see how high the legal fees will run when I contest the will.” He glanced left and watched Margaret’s tanned face blanch to the colour of a skinned almond. “And I’m sure the media will love to hear all about the way the wayward, overly emotional Lane boy has tarnished the family name and is being cut out of the family fortune.”
He walked away, ignoring Margaret calling after him: “There is no reason for you to leave like this!”
“How was lunch?” Lori asked as Lane stepped into the office and stood across from her reception desk.
“The coffee was good,” he said.
“Don’t kid a kidder.” She leaned her elbows on her desk.
“I walked out on the condescending bastards!” He sat down in a chair next to the wall.
She reached down into her desk drawer and pulled out a jar of pistachios. “Snack on these.”
As he reached for a handful of nuts, he thought, You’re the one good thing about having to spend so much time back in the office. If everybody had a mother like you, homicide detectives would be unemployed.
“How are the kids?” Lori split open a pistachio shell with her front teeth, dropped the nut into her palm, and popped it into her mouth.
“Matt’s going to university, and Christine is going to college.” If I’d kept my big mouth shut, at least one of them would be paid for.
“I checked out the location of Andelko Branimir. It wasn’t as easy as I first thought it would be. Looks like the family has moved. I’ve got a new address for you. So far, nothing on Borislav Goran. I’ll keep digging.” She pointed a finger at Lane. “Try a couple of hours on the sites – the ones I emailed to you – and see what you can find. It’ll get your mind off the other stuff. Take these with you.” She handed him the jar of nuts.