“Do you know his name, where he lives?”
He dealt the next hand. “No.”
The man on the left was already asking for a hit, and the pit boss was coming to see why she was interrupting business, but Jane had to ask one more question. “Does he have any friends here? Anyone who might be able to tell me more about him?”
She realized from his manner that the dealer knew his boss was on the way. He kept his eyes on the cards. “Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “Keeps mostly to himself.”
“Thank you.” Before the man with the microphone in his ear could shoo her away, she walked over by the slot machines to call Sebastian.
“I just talked to someone who’s seen him,” she announced.
“So did I. Apparently he’s a regular. But he hasn’t been in tonight.”
“The dealer I spoke to hasn’t seen him in weeks.”
“I’m guessing he’s had other things on his mind.”
She bit her lip. “Latisha and Marcie?”
“Something’s been keeping him busy.”
“Maybe he’s been looking for you, trying to figure out what you’ve got on him.”
“He could be doing that, too,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
But instead of going to the exit, she perched on a stool. “I’d rather stay. Maybe he’ll come in tonight.”
There was a long pause. “I have a better idea,” he said when he spoke again. “Meet me at the door.”
Sixteen
“Do you think that security guard you just paid will really call us if Malcolm comes in?” Jane asked.
Sebastian signaled before taking the Howe Avenue exit off Highway 50. “I do.”
“He’s already got your money. How do you know he won’t forget?”
“Because I promised him more money if he remembers.”
“How much more?”
The money he’d offered might make him appear far wealthier than he was at the moment. But he didn’t want to make a bigger issue of it by refusing to answer. “Five thousand.”
“Dollars?”
“I tried pesos, but…no go.”
She wouldn’t be diverted by his flip remark. “Five thousand dollars just for making a call.”
“No. Malcolm has to be there when we arrive. I have to get a glimpse of him.”
She adjusted her seat belt so she could turn toward him. “You don’t mind throwing away that kind of money?”
His bank account couldn’t hold out much longer. He figured he might as well use what he had left to full advantage. “If this works, it’ll be the best money I’ve ever spent, don’t you think?”
“Saving Marcie and Latisha is worth any amount. It just seems like a lot to pay someone who’s already on the clock,” she said. “I bet he would’ve done it for less.”
Maybe that was true, but Sebastian wasn’t taking any chances. “We want to give him enough incentive.”
“At that price he’ll study every face.”
“That’s the point. Now we can go to bed with some confidence that he’ll do his job.”
“True,” she murmured. “And I’m tired again.”
He pulled into her condominium complex and parked. “I’ll walk you to the door.” He didn’t ask. He stated it as if she didn’t have a choice. Because there was no way he’d let her walk up there without knowing she got in safely.
Fortunately, she didn’t argue. She actually surprised him by asking him to check inside, too. He thought it was her background that had her spooked until she explained that she’d been getting some harassing phone calls from Latisha’s father, someone she called both Luther and Lucifer.
Jane had left the kitchen light on, but the rest of the apartment was dark. They flipped switches as they walked from room to room. Sebastian had expected to see a fairly standard condo, furnished in a fairly standard fashion, but there was art everywhere-sculptures, paintings, handmade pottery, blown glass, metal objects. One painting, in particular, caught his eye. It was hanging on the wall in her bedroom and showed the outline of a man and a woman in a naked embrace. There were no details-no eyes or ears or specific body parts-just shape and color, but it brought the image vividly to mind.
“You like art,” he said.
She’d followed him into the room to watch him look in the closet, the bathroom and under the bed. “Yes. But it’s actually a fairly new passion for me. I never really thought about it or noticed it much before, but since Oliver…I don’t know. It helps me cope with the ugliness of the past.”
“This is nice,” he said, gesturing at the painting. “What is it, watercolor?”
“Yes.”
“You have excellent taste.”
“I’m no expert,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I just buy what I like.”
“I don’t recognize any of the artists.”
“Because it’s all new talent. I can’t afford the more established painters and I don’t want replicas.”
“Only the real thing.”
“For me, it has to be original.”
“Then I’m especially impressed you were able to spot such gems.”
“I like helping new artists get started,” she mused. “As far as I’m concerned, they make the world a better place. Art is another way to fight back, to fill the world with beauty and inspiration instead of hatred and anger. Don’t you think?”
“I’ve never thought of it in that way, but I guess you’re right.” He turned to face her. “Where do you find new pieces?”
“I visit galleries wherever I go. I check eBay. Lots of places, really. I love the discovery process. You could say it’s become my hobby-my only hobby now that I’m working so much.”
He indicated a blown-glass piece on her dresser. “That looks expensive.”
“It was about three hundred dollars. Not bad, considering how much it’ll be worth someday.” She smiled. “If the artist makes it big, of course.”
He jerked his head toward the watercolor. “This painting had to cost more.”
“It did. I used my tax refund to buy it. I should’ve been more conservative and put the money into savings, but…I just had to have it.”
He could see why it appealed to her. The painting depicted two halves coming together to make a perfect whole.