“What are we doing?” Vivian asked warily.
“When was the last time you ate today?” Leo replied.
“I… I don’t think I did,” Vivian admitted. The morning seemed so long ago that she couldn’t remember if she had grabbed breakfast or not.
“I figured,” Leo said. When he saw her shiver, he pulled the scarf off his own neck and draped it around hers, his hands gentle. “You need to eat on a day like this.”
The concern in his eyes made her feel warmer than she had in hours. But it also made her wary. What he meant—what he wasn’t saying—was that her trouble wasn’t over. She had a reprieve. But she didn’t know for how long. Vivian took a shaking breath and nodded.
Leo’s hand crept around hers, their fingers locking together, andshe wished he would do more than that, wished he would wrap his whole body around hers until she could feel safe again at last. But then he glanced over her shoulder, and she remembered that they weren’t alone. “Plus, I promised Dubinski dinner. So let’s see what’s on the menu tonight.”
Leo was right: dinner helped.
It didn’t make her nerves go away. But they were a hell of a lot easier to handle when she didn’t feel like she was about to keel over from hunger.
Leo barely touched more than the coffee. But Dubinski—who, she learned, was indeed a real lawyer, or had been before he retired—ate twice as much as either of them and looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Not as good as dinner at home would have been,” he said, giving them a stern look, though the lift of his eyebrows said he might have been teasing. “But good enough for now.”
“We appreciate you coming, anyway,” Leo said.
Vivian nodded as the waitress placed three slices of cake in front of them and began to clear the dinner plates. “So what did you actually do?” she asked when they were alone again. “What happens next?”
“Oh, the usual,” Dubinski said, giving the cake a slightly wary look before trying a nibble. “Hmm. That’s not too bad. Show up, throw some fancy legal terms around, give the sergeant on duty a bit of a scare. Helps to have someone like Leo here pulling a few strings behind the scenes. As for what happens next…” He raised his eyebrows at her. “I assumed you planned to disappear. A murder charge is a serious thing.”
Vivian had just put a bite in her mouth, and she had to swallow quickly, making herself cough. Her eyes darted to Leo. “You mean the charge isn’t gone?”
He shook his head. “You’re not officially charged with anything. Not yet. But the case isn’t going away.”
The taste of the cake on her tongue suddenly felt sickly. Vivian dropped her fork with a clatter and pushed the plate away. “Then why’d they let me out?”
“We’ll get to that,” he said quietly.
Vivian stared at him, waiting for him to say more, then turned to the lawyer. “What d’you mean, disappear?”
“If they can’t find you, they can’t arrest you again, right?” Dubinski said, looking unconcerned as he dug into his own dessert. “I assume you gave them a fake name?” When Vivian shook her head, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Well, why the hell not?”
She flinched. “I was there working. The housekeeper already knew who I was, and she told the cops. So they know who I am, they know who I work for, if they talk to my boss they can find out who my sister is…” She turned to Leo. “Plus, I called you. And you got me out, which I’m guessing means you had to drop your uncle’s name. And he…” She shuddered. “He probably remembers me.”
She’d had one run-in with Leo’s uncle before—a cold, manipulative man who, along with the rest of his family, had cut off Leo’s mother for marrying a Jewish man. She never wanted to be in his sights again. The commissioner was happy to take advantage of Leo’s connections to the bootlegging world when he needed someone who could work off the books and outside the law. But there was nothing like love or even affection between them. There was barely even respect. And a man like the commissioner of police always had an agenda.
“I did,” Leo said quietly. “And he does. And they’re probably tailing us right now to see where I take you,” he added with a grimace.
“Oh, they certainly are, no question about that,” the lawyer said cheerfully, having finished his cake and moved on to Leo’s slice. He paused only to take a long drink of coffee. Vivian could smell the whiskey in it, and she wondered when he had added it. She’d been toowrapped up in her own thoughts to notice a flask come out. “Bit of a pickle for you, my dear.”
“You don’t sound too broken up about it,” Leo said dryly.
Dubinski shrugged, returning to his plate. “You asked me to show up and promised me dinner. No one said anything about getting all worked up.”
Vivian found her voice again, and there was an edge to it that she didn’t bother trying to hide. “And you don’t care that someone who doesn’t deserve it might go to jail for murder?”
Dubinski gave her a sideways glance. For a moment Vivian caught a glimpse of something under his veneer of unconcern, something hard and sad and tired. “I spent decades caring, young lady, losing sleep and cases and friends, and sometimes losing my mind. It wears you down. I’m not going to let myself be dragged back into it, not even for a pretty girl and the son of an old friend.”
Vivian flinched and looked away.
Leo let out a heavy breath, then nodded. “All right. Don’t look so scared, Viv. It’s going to be hard, but it’s not impossible.”
“But it won’t matter for long, right? Once they find out who really did it, I’ll be in the clear,” Vivian said hopefully.
“Not to burst your bubble, young lady,” Dubinski said dryly. His mask was back in place as he took another drink of coffee. “But the odds of them doing that are nothing to bet on. Your best chance is to present them with some evidence that shows it couldn’t have been you.”
