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“That Evelyn girl that you run around with–” Roberts folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward. “How long do you intend to keep her with you? Her husband is asking questions and her father is breathing down my neck.”

Stanley sat perfectly still and said nothing for a long time. An electric pause that was quickly becoming physically painful for Roberts to endure.

Finally Stanley said, “So she’s missing?”

“Well, ah...” Roberts leaned back in his chair, hand flat on the table. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected at all. In fact, he was confused. “She isn’t with you?” A spare amount of hatred for Stanley bubbled in his stomach,tinged green with jealousy. Roberts had been after Evelyn Colter for years and she’d never given him the time of day. He was a personal friend of her father’s and that didn’t matter even a little to her.

He wasn’t good enough, but she’d take up with trash like Stanley without a care in the world? And that wasn’t the worst of it. Before Stanley came along, he heard that she moved off to New York and started throwing herself at anything with a prick that moved. Anything except for him, anyway. Just the thought of it made him want to flip the table.

It was difficult to say what exactly about Stanley’s expression changed, but goosebumps suddenly raced over Roberts’ arms and he had to resist the urge to back away.

“What do you mean she’s missing?” There was an edge to his voice that Roberts had never heard before.

Frankly, it took him aback.

“Her father called me and said he hasn’t heard from her in weeks. Said he’s been trying to get her husband to produce her, but he’s been putting him off. Then when it came down to it, he finally admitted that he had no idea where she’d gone. I interviewed him and he said he thought she had probably just run off. With you, frankly. Seems like he was trying to keep the scandal all hushed up.”

“And you didn’t consider that maybe he did something to her?” There was now a distinct note of rage in Stanley’s voice. Which was, frankly, astonishing.

“Uh um–” Roberts cleared his throat and tried to regain a handle on the discussion. “I’m looking into it. Everything is a possibility right now. But to be honest with you, I also assumed she was probably with you.”

“Well, she isn’t,” Stanley said, blue eyes glowing with his anger. Though his voice was still steady and low as it always was, Roberts couldn’t help but quell under the look he gave him. “So what the fuck are you going to do about it?”

“I–” Roberts sat back in his chair, totally blank for a moment. He had no fucking idea where to even start. He thought this would be an open and shut case, just a little family scandal to handle. He was not at all prepared to suddenly be in the position of having her father and her insane lover breathing down his neck to produce answers.

“Just– Just to be clear, you haven’t heard from her, either?” Roberts said, grasping at straws.

“No, Roberts,” Stanley said in a slow voice that smoldered with anger, enunciating every syllable clearly. “I haven’t.”

Stanley put down his utensils and sat back in his seat, one closed fist still resting on the table.

“We’ll look at the husband,” Roberts said, swallowing. “That’s the next step.” It was suddenly obvious how real of a possibility it was that her husband had done something to her. And it was also obvious why. Not many men he knew would put up with being so openlycuckolded by a woman who was chronically gracing the gossip columns and the society pages.

“I’d say that you’re probably right,” Stanley said in a tone that made Roberts realize that he was sweating. “So you should probably get to it immediately.”

“Yes,” Roberts said. He swallowed. “Absolutely.”

“What else do you know?” Stanley didn’t move a muscle, just watched him with those cool, glittering eyes.

“I mean, nothing,” Roberts said. “I haven’t had a chance to do anything. I just found out today. I spoke to her husband this morning at his office in the Mayo building.”

“Time to speak to him again,” Stanley said. Then he looked away, across the restaurant, his eyes crinkling. He slowly pulled a silver cigarette case from the inner pocket of his jacket and lit it with an equally expensive looking lighter.

“Sir?” The waiter was standing next to Roberts, a plate of steak and spinach in his hand. “Your meal, sir.”

Roberts moved his elbows off the table and stared at the steak, blood running across the white plate. His stomach turned just looking at it. His appetite seemed to have evaporated with all of this unsavory conversation.

“Well.” Roberts pushed the plate aside and put his elbows back on the table. “I suppose I’ll go back to her husband and try to sort out what happened.”

“Good,” Stanley said. “You handle it your way. I’ll handle it my way.”

“Y-Your way?” Roberts frowned at him. “And what exactly is your way?”

Stanley gave him a look that sent a chill down his spine. “Just stay on standby to clean up the mess.” Then he stood and walked away from the table.

“I guess this means I’m picking up the check, then?” Roberts couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice as he watched Stanley walk away.

“There is no check, Roberts.” Stanley said over his shoulder. “I own this place.” And with that, he disappeared through the portal back into the front of the building, the door held open by one of the white coat waiters.

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