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Melanie had texted: Yes to drink. Duh. Went by bar, Bryce not there. Sick?

That was interesting. Jane had to think about that response. Melanie wasn’t covering for him. If she and Bryce had been out together, wouldn’t she have lied? Wouldn’t she have said yes, she saw the band, Bryce was great? Something like that?

She texted back: Shit just had ton of stuff dropt on me cant do tonite. Bryce seemed ok 2 me this morn.

So if he hadn’t been out with Melanie, what was he doing? Who was he with?

The hell with it. She dialed Bryce’s cell.

Seconds later, he said, “Hey, babe. Sorry about this morning. We just seemed to get off on the wrong foot or—”

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Don’t lie to me when I ask you this question.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Where were you last night? I know it wasn’t with the band.”

Silence on the other end.

“You there, Bryce? This is not a good time to pretend you lost my signal.”

“Look, uh, I couldn’t make it to the gig. I was feeling off.”

“So if you didn’t do the gig, where did you go? Spend the night in the ER waiting for them to treat you for sniffles?”

“Jane, I can’t — I can’t do this right now.”

“I can.”

“It’s just, things between us lately, they’ve been kind of rocky, you know? And you’ve been totally on edge. Sometimes, when I’m talking to you, it’s like you’re on another planet. You don’t hear a thing I’m—”

“Just tell me her name,” Jane said. Hector had appeared and was standing in front of her desk.

A long sigh from Bryce. “I went for a drink with Steph. That’s all it was. A drink.”

“You were out with Staphylococcus?”

Hector had his arms crossed and was strumming his fingers on his elbow.

“Jane, don’t call her that. She’s just a friend, but she’s a good listener and—”

Jane snapped at Hector. “I am on the phone.”

“Sounds like a personal call.”

“Wow. You’re super perceptive.”

“You shouldn’t talk to me like that,” he said.

“Like what?”

“When you came in and told me to fuck off.”

“Oh, Hector, fuck off.”

“That’s what I mean, right there. It’s contrary to the office code of conduct.”

Jane spoke back into the phone. “Good-bye, Bryce.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk later, after you get—”

“No, good-bye, for good.” She ended the call and turned her glare back onto Hector. “The office code of conduct, and you can kiss my skinny, white ass. Was there something else you wanted?”

“There’s a woman in the lobby who wants to talk to you,” he said.

“About what? I hit her car or something?”

“She wants to hire you, bitch,” Hector said. “You know, for an ad campaign? The thing we do here?”

“Show her to the conference room. I’ll join her in a minute.”

“You know,” Hector said, leaning over the desk and whispering, “I’d complain to Mr. Anders about you, but my guess is, you’re blowing him.”

Jane batted her eyes twice and said, “Yeah, but he tells me I’m nowhere near as good as you.”

Hector scurried off. Jane gathered together a notepad and a fine-point pen, plus an iPad in its handsome black leather case. If this potential client wanted to see or hear any of the work Jane had done for others, she could show it to her on the tablet. She allowed a minute to make sure the client was already in the room. That way Jane could make an entrance. Always looked better than being the one sitting and waiting, like you had nothing else to do. Make the client think you’re doing her a favor, finding a spot in your busy day to talk to her.

The woman was there, sitting. Nice looking, black hair, small string of pearls around her neck. Big smile, good teeth.

“Hi,” she said, standing.

“Don’t get up,” Jane said, extending a hand. “A pleasure to meet you. I just had to finish up a call there.” All businesslike now, no more f-bombs.

Calm down, she told herself. Put the Bryce thing away. Lock it up in the box. You’ve always been good at this.

“No problem,” the woman said.

“I’m Jane Scavullo.” She presented the woman with a business card.

“I’m so glad to meet you. I’ve heard good things.”

Jane almost said, “Really?” Had to catch herself. Don’t act stunned when getting a compliment. What she did say was, “And you are?”

“I’m the best life coach in all of southern Connecticut,” she said.

“A who?”

“Life coach. I’ve been trying to raise my profile and I thought, maybe I need to advertise more, you know? I mean, I have the Web site, but people have to find the Web site, right? They have to know it’s out there.”

Jane was thinking, Steph? Bryce was out with Stephanie? That girl had nothing going on.

“What do you think?” the woman asked.

“I’m sorry?” Jane said.

“Do you think you could get my name out there, get me more clients?”

“Well, I guess the first place to start would be for you to tell me what your name is?”

“Oh!” The woman laughed and extended a hand. “My name’s Regina. But call me Reggie. Everybody does.”

Forty-four

Gordie and Bert took the panel van they kept parked out back of the shop. Bert got behind the wheel and Gordie jumped in next to him.

“I still can’t believe it,” Bert said, driving away from the body shop.

“Which part?” Gordie asked.

“You kidding me? Eldon. I can’t believe he punched Eldon’s ticket.”

“If he did it,” Gordie said, “he did it for a reason. Like he said, Eldon was gonna blow the whistle on us. I mean, yeah, it’s pretty sad about what happened to his kid, and he’d have been upset and all, but if he can’t handle it in a way that keeps us all safe, what’s Vince supposed to do?”

Bert looked ill. “Don’t talk to me about the kid. You weren’t the one who had to go to the farm.”

“Sorry, man. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“I can’t fucking do this.”

“Don’t talk that way. Don’t ever be talking that way,” Gordie said. “Sometimes shit happens. You’ll feel better in a day or two.”

“Come on,” Bert said. “You see things clearly. Tell me things aren’t going south.”

Gordie glanced over. “What are you talking about?”

“All I’m saying is, the boss is not the man he used to be.”

“His wife died. He’s been sick. He’s got to ride this through. How do you think you’d be if your wife died?”

Bert looked at him and laughed. “Seriously?”

“Okay, maybe that’s a bad example.”

“That’d be the best thing that could ever happen to me. Janine wanted me at a meeting — be going on right about now — at the home where her mother’s at? They’re kicking the old bat out because she’s a miserable bitch. And guess what Janine’s plan is? Guess?”

“Just tell me.”

“She’s going to move her in with us.”

“Oh man. No, you can’t let that happen.”

Bert waved a hand in the air in frustration. “What am I gonna do? You can’t talk to Janine. The two of them there, ganging up on me, telling me everything I’m doin’ wrong.” He went quiet. “There are times, I just think, I’d rather hit the road and not come back. Life’s shit at home, and it ain’t much better at work.”

Gordie watched him quietly.

Bert said, “Vince, the guy, I tell ya, he’s running on empty. Things are falling apart. And now we’ve been hit. What happens when the guy that money belongs to comes back for it? And we ain’t got it? What’s gonna happen then?”