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.
“Looks like you’ve read some bad news,” Jamie said.
He had a smug look plastered over his face. Nick would have loved to have wiped it off for him, but this wasn’t the time or the place, so he bottled his disgust.
“Ha, ha, very funny.”
Jamie fell in at Nick’s side. “I take it you’ve worked out the meaning.”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll be getting out of Melanie’s life.”
“You can’t control her like this. She’s a woman, not a child.” Nick failed to keep his anger in check. “And you’re not her father.”
“From that, I assume you’re going to continue with the relationship.”
Nick didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t abandon Melanie. He guessed this was the decision Miles Talbot had come to and he had paid the ultimate price. Still, Nick couldn’t walk away.
“The murder of a man isn’t enough of a deterrent for you?”
“No. Not even if it was a dozen.”
Jamie shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t make out if you’re dumb or brave, but I’m leaning toward the former.”
Nick grabbed Jamie by the throat and slammed him up against the smoked glass windows of a faceless building. Jamie made no effort to fight Nick off. “You can’t break us up.”
“It’s looking that way,” Jamie said with sincerity.
A handful of people streamed from the office building. A couple of guys puffed themselves up to look more foreboding than they were. “We’ve called the cops,” one of the men said and held up a cell phone.
Nick released his hold on Jamie and wiped his hands on his pants. “Just leave Melanie and me alone.”
Nick backed away from Jamie as Jamie’s unwitting supporters closed in around him, asking him if he was okay.
Nick turned his back on them and walked away.
“Ask her about the others, Nick,” Jamie called out after him. “Miles Talbot wasn’t an isolated incident.”
Nick lay in Melanie’s bed. A sheen of sweat glistened on his chest. He’d made love to Melanie like it was the last time. It left them breathless, but for totally different reasons. He couldn’t get Jamie’s parting remark out of his head. What had he meant? He’d killed for Melanie before? How many times? Two? Five? A dozen? How did anyone get away with that many murders and how did Melanie cope? She’d have to think she was some sort of kiss of death with a trail of dead boyfriends left in her wake. That was if she even knew they were dead. Melanie said her boyfriends had run out on her, not died on her. Christ, he should go to the cops, but with what? He needed something concrete to give them. If he went to them half-cocked, he’d achieve nothing beyond alienating Melanie and blowing any kind of future with her.
“Wow, don’t look too depressed.” Melanie returned to the bedroom with a glass of water in her hand. She slipped between the sheets and pressed her naked body up against his. She offered him the glass and he sat up and took it. “You can’t be sad after all that.”
“No.” He sipped the water. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Stuff.”
She pinched his arm playfully. “Come on, spit it out. What’s eating you?”
“I was wondering how important I was to you.”
“Very.”
“Really?”
She took the glass from his hand and placed it on the nightstand. She took his face in her hands and stared directly at him. Her eyes shone with a brightness that blinded him. “At this very moment in space and time, you are the most important person to me.”
“At this very moment.”
She smiled. “Yes. What’s all this about? Are you feeling insecure?”
“I feel I know you and at the same time, I don’t.” This wasn’t a line. He really did feel this way. He hadn’t realized how much he felt this until Jamie came on the scene.
Concern clouded her expression, but the remark pushed her away from him. She retreated to her side of the bed. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.” He took her hand in his. “Everything.”
A single tear leaked from her right eye. “What do you want to know?”
They held each other for a time, not saying anything. Then she told him to get up. He showered and when he returned to the bedroom, she wasn’t there. He found her in the living room surrounded by boxes.
“What’s going on?”
“Get dressed and I’ll tell you my life story.”
The boxes contained photo albums dating back to her baby years. She introduced him to two-dimensional images of family and friends, past and present. It didn’t matter which photos she showed him, Jamie was always there, lurking in the corners, glued to her heels like an unwanted shadow.