Like a Knife by Annie Solomon Page B

hundred people can give him an alibi."
    Nick scoffed. "So what? Rennie's the master puppeteer, pulling the strings behind the scenes. What about his favorite puppet? Where were you?"
    Martin cocked his head, gave him a don't-be-stupid look. "Sweden. Checking out a used trawler for SATCO Marine. Got the passport stamp to prove it. I didn't do it, Nicky."
    "Someone else, then. Some day man. A freelancer."
    "Rennie kills his wife and hires a stranger to do it? Someone he barely knows and trusts less? Come on, you know him better than that."
    "Yeah, I know him real well."
    "Then stick to the job he wants you to do."
    "Or what?"
    "Or someone will pay another visit to your teacher friend."
    Nick moved so fast, he didn't realize what he was doing until he had Martin's shirt bunched in his fists.
    "You touch her, you so much as breathe the same air-"
    "Or what-you're going to kill me?" Martin snatched his clothes out of Nick's hold. "I don't think so. You can't. You never could."
    "Well, maybe that's why Rennie wants me to find the kid. That way he has a chance of staying alive."
    Martin stopped straightening his tie and shot Nick a lethal look. "You son of a bitch. You were in that alley in Panama, too. You had a gun-anytime, you could have stopped me."
    "You should have let him go."
    "He saw us, Nicky. No witnesses, that's Rennie's first rule. Jesus Christ, it's been six years. How many times do we have to do this song and dance?"
    "You should have let him go."
    "Well, 'should have' are two of the most overused words in the dictionary, pal."
    * * *
     
    That night, Nick slept in Rennie's house for the first time in six years. And just like old times, a dream woke him, as familiar and bloody as ever. He sat up, sweating in terror, heart thudding so fiercely in his chest he thought it would burst through his skin.
    But something was different. The face in the dream, the eyes that hoped for nothing. They were different. He flipped on the bedside lamp, and the face in the dream appeared with the light, in the photographs he'd left scattered on the night table.
    Isaac.
    After that, Nick didn't bother going back to sleep. Once there, the dream mutated inside his head anyway, waking him several times a night. Instead he pulled on some clothes and borrowed one of Rennie's cars. By four a.m., he was parked across from Rachel's apartment building.
    Would she go to work? After everything she'd been through, he wouldn't blame her if she took some time off. But he wasn't surprised when two hours later her VW drove out of the lot. She was nothing if not dedi-cated.
    Following at a discreet distance, he watched for a tail but didn't spot one. But that didn't mean he'd take Rennie's word for anything either. He'd make sure she was safe, even if he had to secretly escort her to and from work every day for the rest of his life.
    He held his bseath, knowing she would park the car and get out. How would she look?
    He drove past her, turning Ms head away in case she happened to look up, and double-parked halfway down the. block. Standing in the open wedge of the car door, he leaned against the roof to watch. But she had already started to walk away. He saw the braid sway against her back, watched her hike up the church steps and disappear inside. Was she all right? Would she ever be all right again?
    * * *
     
    Rachel jumped as the phone rang in her office. She took a breath to steady herself, but her hands still shook as she reached for the phone.
    "Rachel, dear, how are you?" Julia's voice trilled over the phone and Rachel's heart sank. Her mother's sister, Julia, had taken Rachel in after her mother's death and her father's virtual abandonment of her. Along with her husband, Elliot, and her son, Chris, Julia was the closest thing Rachel had to a family, and right now, she was the last person Rachel wanted to talk to.
    "I... I'm fine," she lied. If her aunt found out what had happened two nights ago, she'd only say, I told you so.
    "Well, I wouldn't