all the acknowledgment he gave me when I paused next to him. I sipped from the wineglass. Chardonnay. I didn’t like chardonnay. Too dry. I drank it anyway and stepped inside.
I had never been in a woman’s restroom before. It seemed larger than most men’s restrooms and there was a long sofa with black cushions hard against the wall opposite the sinks and mirrors. Lindsey had slumped down into it.
“You’ll wrinkle your dress,” I told her.
“Oh, God,” she said and stood up, smoothing the silk with her hands. “It’s been a long day.”
“It’s not over yet,” I reminded her.
Lindsey went to the mirror, examined her face carefully, and slippedher hand into her clutch bag for lipstick even though she didn’t need it. She dabbed her upper lip while her eyes, as clear and sharp as a sunny day in July, examined my reflection with polite curiosity.
“What do you want to talk about, McKenzie?” she asked.
I told her about the Brotherhood, the fact they had me kidnapped five minutes after she left the Groveland Tap, that lacking any other suspects, I blamed her driver for ratting her out. She didn’t seem a bit surprised.
“Tell me the truth, Zee. What exactly is going on?”
Lindsey pretended to tend to her makeup and I pretended to watch. After a few moments, she slipped her lipstick back into her clutch bag.
“You know everything I know,” she said.
“Do I?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
I told her about my assailant on the skyway.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Five minutes, Zee. Five minutes after I left the Brotherhood he came at me, which means he was waiting. Just like the guy outside the Groveland Tap had been waiting. Now, why do I have a feeling that everything that’s happened today was staged for my benefit? Like I’m a minor piece being maneuvered around a chessboard.”
Lindsey paused for a moment before saying, “If you’re being maneuvered, then so am I.”
“I don’t know what to do about it.”
From the expression on her face, Lindsey didn’t have a clue, either.
“This is bigger than it seems,” I told her.
“You will help me, though, won’t you, Mac? You’ll help me despite everything?”
“Everything?”
“The Brotherhood and all that.”
It was back—the feeling I had had at the Groveland Tap that Lindseywasn’t telling me the truth, at least not the whole truth—but I said yes just the same, for old time’s sake.
“Good.”
“Zee,” I asked innocently.
“Yes?”
“Tell me about Troy Donovan.”
“What do you mean?”
“How well do you know him?”
“Not well at all,” she answered easily. “We’re acquainted through events like this, but I don’t think I’ve spoken more than a dozen words to him. Why?”
“The way he looked at you when you first arrived . . .”
“You’d be amazed at the way some men look at me.”
“The way he looked at us when we danced together.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Okay.”
“Is it?”
“Sure.”
“What happens next?”
“Good question.”
I gave Lindsey a head start before leaving the restroom and making my way back to the atrium. I searched unsuccessfully for Nina, wondering if she had become so fed up with me for ignoring her that she left the ball. Couldn’t say I blamed her.
The orchestra was taking a break and there was no one on the dance floor. It was getting late for a weeknight. Wives were looking at husbands the way they do when they want to go home, and husbands, at least for the time being, were pretending not to notice. Yet the exodus would soon begin. The couples with younger children would depart first, followedshortly by those with older children, followed by the single and the childless. Most of the partygoers would be gone by the time the orchestra finished its final set.
I thought the set might be about to begin when Bobby DeNucci walked to the microphone at center stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” DeNucci announced.
I had never been in a woman’s restroom before. It seemed larger than most men’s restrooms and there was a long sofa with black cushions hard against the wall opposite the sinks and mirrors. Lindsey had slumped down into it.
“You’ll wrinkle your dress,” I told her.
“Oh, God,” she said and stood up, smoothing the silk with her hands. “It’s been a long day.”
“It’s not over yet,” I reminded her.
Lindsey went to the mirror, examined her face carefully, and slippedher hand into her clutch bag for lipstick even though she didn’t need it. She dabbed her upper lip while her eyes, as clear and sharp as a sunny day in July, examined my reflection with polite curiosity.
“What do you want to talk about, McKenzie?” she asked.
I told her about the Brotherhood, the fact they had me kidnapped five minutes after she left the Groveland Tap, that lacking any other suspects, I blamed her driver for ratting her out. She didn’t seem a bit surprised.
“Tell me the truth, Zee. What exactly is going on?”
Lindsey pretended to tend to her makeup and I pretended to watch. After a few moments, she slipped her lipstick back into her clutch bag.
“You know everything I know,” she said.
“Do I?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
I told her about my assailant on the skyway.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Five minutes, Zee. Five minutes after I left the Brotherhood he came at me, which means he was waiting. Just like the guy outside the Groveland Tap had been waiting. Now, why do I have a feeling that everything that’s happened today was staged for my benefit? Like I’m a minor piece being maneuvered around a chessboard.”
Lindsey paused for a moment before saying, “If you’re being maneuvered, then so am I.”
“I don’t know what to do about it.”
From the expression on her face, Lindsey didn’t have a clue, either.
“This is bigger than it seems,” I told her.
“You will help me, though, won’t you, Mac? You’ll help me despite everything?”
“Everything?”
“The Brotherhood and all that.”
It was back—the feeling I had had at the Groveland Tap that Lindseywasn’t telling me the truth, at least not the whole truth—but I said yes just the same, for old time’s sake.
“Good.”
“Zee,” I asked innocently.
“Yes?”
“Tell me about Troy Donovan.”
“What do you mean?”
“How well do you know him?”
“Not well at all,” she answered easily. “We’re acquainted through events like this, but I don’t think I’ve spoken more than a dozen words to him. Why?”
“The way he looked at you when you first arrived . . .”
“You’d be amazed at the way some men look at me.”
“The way he looked at us when we danced together.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Okay.”
“Is it?”
“Sure.”
“What happens next?”
“Good question.”
I gave Lindsey a head start before leaving the restroom and making my way back to the atrium. I searched unsuccessfully for Nina, wondering if she had become so fed up with me for ignoring her that she left the ball. Couldn’t say I blamed her.
The orchestra was taking a break and there was no one on the dance floor. It was getting late for a weeknight. Wives were looking at husbands the way they do when they want to go home, and husbands, at least for the time being, were pretending not to notice. Yet the exodus would soon begin. The couples with younger children would depart first, followedshortly by those with older children, followed by the single and the childless. Most of the partygoers would be gone by the time the orchestra finished its final set.
I thought the set might be about to begin when Bobby DeNucci walked to the microphone at center stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” DeNucci announced.
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