“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick called out to Jamie’s retreating form.
Nick picked up Melanie at her condo the next night. He wanted to mention Jamie’s reprehensible scene but couldn’t do it. From what she’d mentioned about him, they were close. Very close. Telling her about what happened yesterday might force her to choose sides.
While he waited for Melanie to finish changing, Nick tried to make sense of what had happened. The guy was just trying to protect his sister. That was understandable. His outburst was almost admirable. Except it wasn’t. It was excessive and totally uncalled for. There was no way Nick could tell Melanie about it. She took his arm and led him to the elevator.
Nick had reservations at her favorite restaurant in the city, a French place called The Fifth Floor. He had planned on taking her to a Greek place he liked on Battery, but he’d switched at the last minute. The reason—privacy. The Fifth Floor was secluded and somewhat exclusive. If Jamie wanted to create a scene, he’d have a hard job.
During the drive, Nick’s animal instincts kicked in. He sensed a car was tailing him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this feeling. For the past couple of weeks, he would have sworn he’d seen the same car outside his home, at the gym and parked across from his job. If it wasn’t a car, it was someone following him on foot. He’d put it down to paranoia, but after Jamie’s warning, he wasn’t so sure.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Melanie said.
He dragged his gaze away from his rearview mirror and the Acura that had been trailing him since he left the office. “Just a little distracted is all. Sorry.”
She smiled at him. “Well, don’t be. You’re with me tonight. I demand attention.”
He laughed. “Yes, my queen.”
“That’s more like it.”
He looked back in his rearview. The Acura was gone.
The hostess showed them to a corner table. Nick took the seat that gave him the best view of the bar leading into the dining area. If Jamie planned any sort of confrontation, he’d see it coming.
They ordered. Melanie chatted and Nick struggled to concentrate on what she said. She called him on it a couple of times and he apologized, promising to do better. He expected Jamie to appear at any moment, but he didn’t show. By the time the entrées were served, Nick felt this wasn’t the night Jamie would make his scene. His tension lifted and clarity seeped in. A thought came to him.
He wondered if he’d really been accosted by Melanie’s brother and not by some jealous ex-boyfriend. Melanie had mentioned she hadn’t had much luck in the relationship department over the years. The men she bared her soul to always ran out on her. Was it possible these men might not have run out, but have been helped on their way?
“You’ve mentioned your brother, Jamie, but you’ve never told me much about him.”
“He’s a great guy. I’m sure you two would really like each other. He’s older than me by a couple of years and of course that makes him my protector. He’s always looking out for me. I don’t know what he wouldn’t do for me,” she enthused.
This description matched the guy Nick had met yesterday, but that still didn’t mean anything.
“Have you got a picture of him?”
“Of course. I’m surprised I haven’t shown it to you before now.”
Melanie fished in her purse and removed a photo from her pocketbook. Nick took the picture and examined it and his theory went up in smoke. The Jamie in the picture was the Jamie on Market Street. Nick squeezed out a polite smile and handed the picture back.
“He looks how I expected him to look.”
“The three of us should go out together.”
“I’d like that,” Nick said, and meant it. It would be a good opportunity to show this guy how happy he made his sister. If that didn’t work, he doubted Jamie could keep a lid on his jealously and he’d expose himself for the person he really was. Either way, it’d be a win-win for Nick. “Jamie doesn’t have to play third wheel. He should bring his girlfriend. Make it a double date. I haven’t double-dated in years.”
“Jamie doesn’t have a girlfriend. I don’t know why.”
I do, Nick thought. “Maybe he doesn’t put himself out there,” he suggested.
They skipped dessert and hooked up with some friends at a club, but left early to go back to Melanie’s condo. They fooled around and Melanie wanted him to spend the night, but he couldn’t get Jamie off his mind.
He went home, his head full of Jamie. Goddamn the guy for thinking he could destroy his relationship with Melanie. Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it. Jamie’s threatening ways might have worked with Melanie’s past boyfriends, but they wouldn’t with him. His blood was up when he went to bed, but it turned icy cold when he picked up the newspaper off his stoop the following morning. The Chronicle had been turned to the third page. The headline read Man Killed in Senseless Mugging.
It took Nick a minute to realize the newspaper wasn’t current, but six months old. The story detailed the botched mugging. A Wells Fargo employee—Miles Talbot, twenty-six—had been returning home after a night out in the city. He’d been stabbed repeatedly on the Embarcadero and his wallet and valuables had been taken. His body had been dragged from the main thoroughfare and dumped under the archway of Pier 26. After Nick read the story, a vague recollection of the incident filtered through. The cops had never found the person responsible.
There were no prizes for guessing who’d left this piece of San Francisco history for him. It was a cheap and tactless attempt to intimidate him. It was also vague. Was Jamie saying that if he didn’t stop seeing his sister, he’d end up in the same condition? Christ, it was as pathetic as it was infuriating. Nick went to toss the newspaper in the trash, but a second thought struck him. He’d taken the news story for a veiled threat. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Talbot’s murder was an example of what happened to Melanie’s boyfriends who didn’t take a hint. The strength went out of his legs and he flopped into a chair at his kitchen table.
Had Melanie’s brother killed this guy? It seemed incredible that he would resort to that. Nick couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but an itch at the back of his skull believed it was not only possible but true. There was only one way to find out.
He Googled Miles Talbot’s murder. The hits revealed various incarnations of the story he’d read in the Chronicle. There were a few more column inches dedicated to announcing when the investigation went cold. None of the hits revealed the one fact Nick looked for—the name of a girlfriend. He called Wells Fargo and asked for Talbot’s extension. He received the expected awkward silence before the switchboard operator said, “I’ll transfer you. Hold one moment.”
Nick was connected to Julia Chastain in the private clients department, who spoke in a hushed tone. “You wanted to speak to Miles Talbot?”
“Yes. Is he there?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll leave a message.”
“You don’t know, then.”
“Know what?”
Julia gave him the Cliff’s Notes version. He acted suitably shocked and tossed in the factoid that he’d been an old college buddy of Talbot’s, which took him closer into her confidence.
“How did his girlfriend take it?”
“Melanie Lassen? I don’t know. I imagine she took it hard. Do you know her?”
Nick sagged under the weight of the confirmation. It was as if his flesh couldn’t support the immense weight of his bones. It was an effort to speak but he forced the words out. “Yeah, I know her.”
Julia said something but he wasn’t listening anymore. He thanked her and hung up.
The guys in his office wanted to hit Gordon Biersch for lunch. He possessed the desire to drink, but not the thirst. He hit the streets instead. He stood in line at a Subway, but walked away before his turn came. He was wandering along Spear Street when a voice interrupted him from his thoughts.