Page 47 of Mine

“Two whiskeys. Neat,” Vale called to the waitress, who had taken a break from studiously ignoring us.

“Make mine a double. On the rocks. Can you put my groceries in the fridge behind the bar there?” I asked, flashing a winning smile. “Thanks.”

The waitress came back with two whiskeys and set our drinks in front of us. Vale threw down a crumpled ten dollar bill.

“You’re flying high, aren’t you? What do they pay spooks nowadays?”

“Not enough for dealing with shitheads like you.”

Vale leered at me and threw back his whiskey. I sipped mine. The waitress sat in the front of the bar, out of earshot. Vale dropped his voice anyway.

“I hear rumors flying around. Rumors that Susan Steadhill was killed.”

“Yeah?” I said. “You’re welcome.”

“Rumor is that you didn’t do it.”

I licked my lips, uncertain of how much to tell him. If anything.

“They came into my house. I killed them.”

“Yeah, that’s what the surveillance tapes show.”

“And?” I raised my eyebrows, pretending to be sincere. I thought about what Sara had told me about method acting. I had killed them, I told myself. They were dead. If I believed it, he would believe it.

“And I’m not buying it,” Vale said, eyeing me warily. “Because I got this rumor tells me that Susan was killed before she ever got to your house.”

“You have proof of that?”

“No. This rumor didn’t come with a body.”

“That’s a shame.”

Vale slammed his glass down on the table.

“Where’s Susan Steadhill?”

I took another sip of my whiskey. I’d always been good at lying. Kids who hate their parents are always good at lying.

“I don’t know. I thought she was dead. I thought I killed her.”

“Don’t joke about this.”

“You’re the one who sends me the witnesses. I just get rid of them once they walk in. The woman who came in said that she was Susan Steadhill.”

“Yeah, well, she might not have been.”

“Not my fault.” I went to slide out of the booth. If that was all he had, he had no business keeping me here.

He grabbed me by the arm. I winced.

“We might have killed an innocent person, Rien.”

“When did the U.S. government start caring about that? Hold on. Strike that. When didyoustart caring about that?”

“We don’t know where the wife is. I don’t have a body.”

“So she could still be alive?”

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