“Right,” Nora answered.
“This proves that Ricardo didn’t give up his criminal pursuits back in 1983,” Zander said.
“Not only that,” Britt said. “The timing is suspicious. Ricardo was released from federal prison, and a few months later Frank receives an upsetting phone call while he’s at work. He’s found dead the next day. What if that phone call was from Ricardo?”
“Is there a way to find out what crime Ricardo committed that landed him in federal prison?” Zander asked.
“Yes,” Nora answered, “but that may take me a little bit of time.”
“How can we get ahold of a current address for Ricardo?” Britt asked.
“Why do you want his current address?”
“So we can contact him,” she said matter-of-factly. “If he lives anywhere nearby, I want to talk with him. I’ve got about a million questions I’d like him to answer.”
Zander stared at her like she’d suggested swimming with polar bears. “You’re not going to talk with Ricardo Serra,” he said.
“Not alone, I’m not. We’ll talk to him together.”
Zander’s journal entry:
What if Frank actually was involved in the Triple Play? What if Frank’s old life came back to haunt him in the form of Ricardo Serra? What if I was followed?
It’s three a.m. I’m sure Britt is sleeping soundly, because she’s too brave to be terrified.
I’m going to have to be sensible ... and terrified ... enough for the both of us.
Chapter
nine
Zander was having a rotten time at Britt’s birthday party.
She’d chosen to celebrate at 12 Lakeside, a new and modern restaurant with an industrial vibe and exposed ductwork. It was located at, yes, 12 Lakeside in Shore Pine and positioned so that the windows overlooked views of the lake at sunset.
For the past forty-five minutes, he and the other guests had been socializing and snacking on appetizers at the bar. Soon they’d move to tables for dinner.
Of Britt’s two dozen party guests, Zander knew all but five. Three of those five were men. One of those three was named Reid. Reid looked to be around Zander’s age, but unlike Zander, Reid obviously loved to party.
Zander had always been suspicious of people who loved to party. He himself only functioned well in small groups and at a decibel level that enabled him to hear himself think.
So far, he’d watched Reid throw back two afterburner shots. That, Zander could forgive. But Reid’s unceasing flirting with Britt—not so forgivable. Britt’s laughing amusement at Reid’s flirting—even worse.
Zander tried to focus on his current conversation with Nora’sfiancé, John, and Willow’s husband, Corbin. They were discussing the recent Masters Tournament.
“Did you see the shot Jordan Spieth hit on sixteen?” Corbin asked.
“Unbelievable,” John answered.
Zander didn’t like golf and hadn’t watched the Masters, but he nodded in a way he hoped communicated interest.
Zander had behaved like a saint in the face of all the beginnings, middles, and ends of Britt’s relationships. Tonight, though, he was realizing that he no longer had the stomach for it. He flat-out couldn’t stand to watch a new relationship develop between Britt and Reid.
You’re acting like an idiot.
She’d been a better friend to him than anyone. She always had his back. She supported him and sacrificed for him and believed in him even when he struggled to believe in himself. She accepted his flaws and understood his idiosyncrasies. She told it to him straight when she thought he was wrong. And she insisted on helping him every chance she got.
In light of all that, he didn’t exactly have the freedom to opt out of information on Britt’s current and future boyfriends. He’d never told her he loved her, so it wasn’t like she had any reason to think that a flirtation with Reid might hurt him. She was free to flirt with anyone she wanted. If he couldn’t stand to watch her with Reid, then the best he could do for himself was look in a different direction.
