Torture to Her Soul
Page 83
"Guess not," I respond. "I'm sure Martina would call if it were important."
"Yeah, or try to show up here," Ray says with a laugh. "Good thing she knows women aren't allowed inside."
My gaze darts to Brandy as she smiles, clearly listening, obviously the exception to the rules.
We all have those, I think.
Exceptions.
I used to be one of his.
"So what are you doing here?" Ray asks when the waitress brings my beer. I pop the top off with the bottle opener on my keys and take a long pull, letting it soothe my nerves. He retakes his seat, Brandy draping herself once more over his lap, as he motions to the chair beside him for me to sit.
I hadn't come here to socialize, or even to see Ray, but denying him isn't smart at the moment, so I sit.
"Just handling some business," I reply, taking another drink.
"Same business you were handling the other night before the dinner party?" he asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. "It's not like you to be late for things. Makes me wonder what was so important."
"Had to take care of a guy," I say. "No big deal."
"What guy? What did he do?"
"Endangered Karissa."
He smiles, letting out a little laugh. "Endangered Karissa."
"Yes."
"Funny, how you can go from wanting to kill her yourself to wanting to kill anyone who hurts her," Ray says. "Who was the guy, anyway? Anyone I know?"
"No," I say. "Just the boyfriend of one of her friends."
"So you took care of her friend's boyfriend because he endangered her?"
"Yes."
"How chivalrous," he mutters. "Something my daughter loved in you, might I add. Maria always went on and on about your manners, how you'd open doors and pull out chairs and offer her your coat when she was cold. She always said she found a hero in you."
I shake my head as I guzzle the rest of the beer, setting the empty bottle down on the table beside me. No amount of alcohol will dilute the bitterness of this conversation. "I'm nobody's hero."
"You're trying to be Karissa's."
"No, I just don't want to be her villain."
"Ah, hero, villain… what's the difference anymore? These days, killing kids in the name of love is more honorable than putting someone out of their misery. The world's gone backward."
"Maybe you're just looking at it the wrong way."
"Maybe," Ray agrees, "or maybe you aren't looking at it at all. Maybe you're blind to it."
"Maybe you are."
Ray shrugs. "One of us certainly is."
We're at an impasse, one we'll probably never get past. My gaze shifts from Ray to his girlfriend as she eyes me curiously. She hasn't said a word, but she's still listening.
"Maybe we should talk about this in private," I suggest.
"No need," Ray says flippantly as he motions around the scarce bar. "We're all friends here."
I don't have friends. I have family. And I don't trust half of them these days. But Ray believes what he wants to believe, and no amount of coaxing will change that with him.
Sighing, I stand up and walk away, heading toward the administrative office beside Ray's. I've put this off way too long as it is, but I can't delay it any longer. Ray is growing impatient, especially after that display at his house, and I need to put an end to this so we can all move on and salvage whatever is left.
I need to find Carmela.
The manager is in, sitting at his desk. It takes him a moment to recognize me, and he rises to his feet. "Mr. Vitale. What can I do for you?"
"I need to see the outside security footage from a few weeks ago," I say. "Around the beginning of June. There was an incident in the back lot."
"Ah, yes, that."
"You know what I'm referring to?"
He sits back down and shifts through some things on his desk. "The same incident Mr. Angelo inquired about? Your shooting?"
I tense. "Ray asked about it?"
"Of course," he says. "The night it happened. He watched the footage."
My stomach sinks. Ray saw. He knows who fired the shot that night. He knows I lied to him, he's known since the beginning, but he hasn't called me out on it.
Why?
"I need copies of the footage made for me," I say. "All outside angles for the week leading up to the incident and the next day."
He raises his eyebrows as he gazes at me. "That's hundreds of hours. If you're looking for something specific, I can—"
"Don't worry about what I'm looking for," I say, cutting him off. "Just get me what I need, and make it quick."
"Yes, sir. I can have it for you this afternoon."
When I walk back out of his office, the bar is deserted. Ray and his girlfriend are both gone and the door is unmanned, as Kelvin likely made an exit with them. Strolling over, I plop back down in the leather chair, motioning for the waitress to bring me another beer.
Maybe I can enjoy this one…
A few hours later, the footage is ready. I grab the disks from the manager, nodding my thanks, and head out of Cobalt. I have just enough time to stop by the small café nearby and order a Chocolate Mint Tea before Karissa's school day ends. The café is in chaos. Seems one of their workers hasn't shown up for a few days, leaving them short staffed.
"Yeah, or try to show up here," Ray says with a laugh. "Good thing she knows women aren't allowed inside."
My gaze darts to Brandy as she smiles, clearly listening, obviously the exception to the rules.
We all have those, I think.
Exceptions.
I used to be one of his.
"So what are you doing here?" Ray asks when the waitress brings my beer. I pop the top off with the bottle opener on my keys and take a long pull, letting it soothe my nerves. He retakes his seat, Brandy draping herself once more over his lap, as he motions to the chair beside him for me to sit.
I hadn't come here to socialize, or even to see Ray, but denying him isn't smart at the moment, so I sit.
"Just handling some business," I reply, taking another drink.
"Same business you were handling the other night before the dinner party?" he asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. "It's not like you to be late for things. Makes me wonder what was so important."
"Had to take care of a guy," I say. "No big deal."
"What guy? What did he do?"
"Endangered Karissa."
He smiles, letting out a little laugh. "Endangered Karissa."
"Yes."
"Funny, how you can go from wanting to kill her yourself to wanting to kill anyone who hurts her," Ray says. "Who was the guy, anyway? Anyone I know?"
"No," I say. "Just the boyfriend of one of her friends."
"So you took care of her friend's boyfriend because he endangered her?"
"Yes."
"How chivalrous," he mutters. "Something my daughter loved in you, might I add. Maria always went on and on about your manners, how you'd open doors and pull out chairs and offer her your coat when she was cold. She always said she found a hero in you."
I shake my head as I guzzle the rest of the beer, setting the empty bottle down on the table beside me. No amount of alcohol will dilute the bitterness of this conversation. "I'm nobody's hero."
"You're trying to be Karissa's."
"No, I just don't want to be her villain."
"Ah, hero, villain… what's the difference anymore? These days, killing kids in the name of love is more honorable than putting someone out of their misery. The world's gone backward."
"Maybe you're just looking at it the wrong way."
"Maybe," Ray agrees, "or maybe you aren't looking at it at all. Maybe you're blind to it."
"Maybe you are."
Ray shrugs. "One of us certainly is."
We're at an impasse, one we'll probably never get past. My gaze shifts from Ray to his girlfriend as she eyes me curiously. She hasn't said a word, but she's still listening.
"Maybe we should talk about this in private," I suggest.
"No need," Ray says flippantly as he motions around the scarce bar. "We're all friends here."
I don't have friends. I have family. And I don't trust half of them these days. But Ray believes what he wants to believe, and no amount of coaxing will change that with him.
Sighing, I stand up and walk away, heading toward the administrative office beside Ray's. I've put this off way too long as it is, but I can't delay it any longer. Ray is growing impatient, especially after that display at his house, and I need to put an end to this so we can all move on and salvage whatever is left.
I need to find Carmela.
The manager is in, sitting at his desk. It takes him a moment to recognize me, and he rises to his feet. "Mr. Vitale. What can I do for you?"
"I need to see the outside security footage from a few weeks ago," I say. "Around the beginning of June. There was an incident in the back lot."
"Ah, yes, that."
"You know what I'm referring to?"
He sits back down and shifts through some things on his desk. "The same incident Mr. Angelo inquired about? Your shooting?"
I tense. "Ray asked about it?"
"Of course," he says. "The night it happened. He watched the footage."
My stomach sinks. Ray saw. He knows who fired the shot that night. He knows I lied to him, he's known since the beginning, but he hasn't called me out on it.
Why?
"I need copies of the footage made for me," I say. "All outside angles for the week leading up to the incident and the next day."
He raises his eyebrows as he gazes at me. "That's hundreds of hours. If you're looking for something specific, I can—"
"Don't worry about what I'm looking for," I say, cutting him off. "Just get me what I need, and make it quick."
"Yes, sir. I can have it for you this afternoon."
When I walk back out of his office, the bar is deserted. Ray and his girlfriend are both gone and the door is unmanned, as Kelvin likely made an exit with them. Strolling over, I plop back down in the leather chair, motioning for the waitress to bring me another beer.
Maybe I can enjoy this one…
A few hours later, the footage is ready. I grab the disks from the manager, nodding my thanks, and head out of Cobalt. I have just enough time to stop by the small café nearby and order a Chocolate Mint Tea before Karissa's school day ends. The café is in chaos. Seems one of their workers hasn't shown up for a few days, leaving them short staffed.
