“Ice?” she asked with her back to me.
“Two cubes, please.” My eyes traveled down her body, focusing on her ass and trying to see the outline through the flimsy material of her blue tracksuit. Why couldn’t the woman wear jeans like other people? Her outfit did nothing for her body and made it so hard for my imagination to run wild. I couldn’t even tell if she had on panties, but in my mind I pictured her without.
She set the drink down in front of me and caught me off guard. “Are you feeling okay? You look flushed.”
I chuckled softly and hoped she hadn’t caught me staring at her ass. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm,” I lied my ass off.
“Want me to turn on the air?” she asked and started to move her track jacket away from her skin. “It is a bit warm in here.” She stood quickly, removing her jacket and placing it on the chair before heading to the hallway.
My eyes zoomed in on her chest instantly. The white T-shirt was partially see-through, and all I could focus on was the outline of her black lace bra. Why did it have to be black? It didn’t match the tracksuit. I highly doubted that the ladies in the Golden Girls wore black lingerie underneath their clothing.
“You should feel better soon. I turned it down a bit.” She sat, moving the umbrella around in her pink drink. “Sex on the Beach,” she said innocently.
I started to choke on my drink at the mention. “What?” I asked in a strangled voice.
“My drink. It’s a Sex on the Beach.”
My mouth formed an “O” before I started to cough again. All of a sudden, I pictured Fran running around in the sand with beads of water dripping off her while she was clad in a string bikini. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“Where do you want to start?” she asked before bringing the drink to her lips and staring at me over the rim.
What I wanted to say and what I needed to say were so opposite, but I went with work. “So today we learned that McDougal isn’t Johnny’s real name. It’s O’Sullivan. Other than that, we don’t have a ton to go on, but you may be able to give us some clues.”
“O’Sullivan?” she asked, setting down her drink on the table in slow motion. “I’ve heard the name before.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. His cousin who always called was named O’Sullivan.”
“Do you remember the cousin’s first name?”
“Kate.”
I pulled out the tiny tablet I’d stuck in my back pocket before I walked out of ALFA and started to jot down notes. This was one time I wanted to actually write shit down. I needed to go back to the office with a full report. Plus, I’d figured Fran would distract me and I’d probably forget half the shit she’d told me by the time I walked out the door.
“Do you know where she lives?”
“Somewhere in New York.”
“Anything else about Kate?” She couldn’t have had any more of a plain name. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack in the entire state of New York.
“She’s a hairdresser or some shit in the Bronx.”
That narrowed it down a lot. Couldn’t be too many Kate O’Sullivan’s doing hair in the Bronx. “I’ll start checking her out as soon as possible.”
“Now that I think of it…” She placed her face in her hands. “Oh God,” she wailed softly. “I’m a fool.”
I reached out and pulled her hands away from her face. “Don’t feel like a fool, babe. Just tell me.”
She sighed before dragging her dark brown eyes to mine. “He always said I love you to her before they got off the phone. I didn’t think anything of it. But he claimed they were cousins. How many cousins do you know who say that every time they talk?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“I bet she’s his wife or some shit. That’s just how my luck is.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe it was his cousin.”
She gave me a “don’t be an idiot” look. “Let’s be real here, Bear. He used me to get comfortable and stay under the radar at work.”
“Now you listen to me, Ms. DeLuca, manipulators know just what to say and how to act to get their way. There’s nothing you could’ve done to change things. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “Or I’m just a fool.”
“Didn’t he work at the track for years?”
“He owned it, and Race bought it from him.”
I knew that, but it had slipped my mind. Something wasn’t adding up. Why would a man sell a track and then steal from the very person he’d already had a windfall from… It didn’t make sense.
“It’s highly unlikely that she’s his wife, Fran. Maybe she’s his sister. If he lived down here for years, running a business, someone would’ve known about Kate. A man can only hide a wife for so long.”
“True,” she said in a soft voice and twisted her fingers together on top of the table. “She knew we were a couple. I actually spoke to her on the phone a few times.”
I placed my hands over hers. “If that was you on the other end, would you want to talk to the woman sleeping with your husband?”
“I’d track that bitch down and kick her ass.”
“Exactly.” I laughed loudly. “So she’s probably not his wife, but she’s definitely a lead. Did Johnny act any differently lately?”
“He seemed more paranoid than normal.” She stirred her drink, staring at the liquid swirling around the ice cubes. “He’d look out the windows a few times, double-check locks, and shit like that, but I thought he was just being cautious.”
“Did Johnny gamble?”
She shook her head, and her hair skimmed across her shoulder, glistening in the light. “Not that I knew of.”
“Who else do you remember him talking to? We’re trying to get an accurate picture of who he is and who his associates were.”
“Hmm.” She paused and chewed on the inside of her lip. “He’d get texts all the time from someone named Trout, but I don’t know if it’s a nickname or a last name. I heard him reminisce about an old friend named Sawyer too. I’m sorry,” she said and rubbed her forehead with her delicate fingers. “I guess I didn’t know as much about him as I thought.”
“Some people are just guarded, Fran. Usually, it’s just out of habit, but sometimes, like with Johnny, there are other reasons why someone doesn’t open up about who they really are.” I took a large swig of gin, but I kept my eyes trained on her.
“You’re kind of like him, Bear. You’re very private. I don’t even know your real name.”
My hand stilled with the glass still pressed against my lips. I never hid my name, but I also never told people openly. My closest friends knew it, and my family, but years ago I stopped answering to it. I set down the gin and licked my lips, taking a moment to debate telling her. When I looked across the table at her sad smile, I couldn’t stop myself from answering. “It’s Murray.”
Her smile widened, like I’d let her in on a very private secret. “I like that name. It suits you.” Even though I cringed, she whispered, “Murray.”
Usually, hearing my name would bring back too many memories, but coming from her mouth, it sounded as sweet as the most beautiful song. “That’s me.” I played it off like an idiot.
She placed her hand on my forearm and stroked my skin, sending chills skidding up my arm. “Do you mind if I call you that? Bear is cute, but Murray is more… manly.”
“Cook for me again, and you can call me whatever you want.” I smiled at her, relishing the feel of her skin against mine.
“Shit. I forgot about your beautiful dessert. Let me grab it.” When she removed her hand and stood, I instantly missed the connection.
She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the dining room. “What the fuck am I doing?” I whispered and glanced toward the ceiling. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath and told myself Fran is off-limits, asshole.
“You okay?” she asked, catching me off guard.
I peered over at her as she stood in the doorway, holding a tray of freshly made cannoli. “I couldn’t be better. Good food and great company, but I wish I were here under different circumstances.”
She placed two powdered sugar-covered, chocolate-dipped cannoli on my plate. “Well, let’s talk about other things besides Johnny. Ever have any kids?”
I tried to hold back my cringe. My life was something I didn’t discuss with many. “I have two,” I told her, which was surprisingly easy.
She sat down and placed one cannoli on her dish before setting the napkin in her lap. “How old?”
“Ret’s around thirty now, and Janice is just a year younger.”
“Do they live around here?”
“Last I heard, he lived somewhere in Texas.” I took the largest bite of the cannoli, hoping my mouth would be too full to answer any more questions. “And she lives nearby.”
“Jesus, I couldn’t imagine being that far away from my kid. He’s my only baby and has been my life since my marriage ended.”