He blasted smoke into the rearview mirror, scanning.
“Page or call me?” I asked as I climbed out.
“What if you don’t get the message in time?”
“Then run her over with your truck,” I impatiently replied, pushing the door shut.
I looked around as I walked toward the restaurant and saw no sign of Bray. I had no idea what her personal car was but suspected she wouldn’t show up in it, anyway. I pulled open the heavy wooden door of Buckhead’s and was greeted by carefree voices and ice clinking in glasses as the bartender made drinks with a flourish. A mounted buck’s head explained the restaurant’s name. Lights were low, the paneling dark, and crates and racks of wine were stacked almost to the ceiling.
“Well, good evening.” The hostess at the podium smiled in a surprised way. “We’ve missed you, but I certainly know from the news that you’ve been a little busy. What can I help you with?”
“A reservation in the name of Bray?” I inquired. “I’m not sure of the time:”
She scanned the big reservation book, running a pencil down names and times. Then she tried again. She looked embarrassed. After all, it was impossible to stroll into a good restaurant unannounced even on a weeknight.
“I’m afraid not;” she quietly told me.
“Hmmm. Maybe it’s in my name?” I tried again.
She tried again, too.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry, Dr. Scarpetta. And we’re full tonight because we have a group taking up the entire front room.”
It was twenty of six now. Tables were covered with redchecked cloths, small lamps burning on them, and the room was completely empty because civilized people rarely dined before seven.
“I was going to have a drink with a friend.” I continued my act. “I suppose we could eat early if you could fit us? Maybe around six?”
“That’s no problem at all,” she said, brightening up.
“Then put me down,” I replied as my worries intensified.
What if Bray realized Chuck’s car wasn’t in the lot and became suspicious?
“Then six it is…….”
I was acutely aware of the pager on my belt and listening for a phone to ring.
“Perfect,” I said to the hostess.
This scenario curdled my sensibilities. It was my nature, my training and my professional practice to always tell the truth, in no way to slip into the behavior of the wily, lowlife trial lawyer I could have been had I given myself up to manipulation, evasion and the gray areas of the law.
The hostess penciled my name in the book as my pager vibrated like a big insect. I read the 10-4 on the display and hurried back through the bar. I had no choice but to open the front door because the windows were opaque and I could not see through them. I spotted the dark Crown Victoria.
Marino didn’t do anything right away. My anxiety grew as Bray parked and turned her headlights off. I felt sure she wouldn’t wait for Chuck very long and could already imagine her annoyance. Little nobodies like him didn’t dare to keep Deputy Chief Diane Bray waiting.
“Is there something I can do for you?” the bartender asked me as he dried off a glass.
I continued to peer through the barely open door, wondering what Marino was going to do next.
“I’m expecting someone who isn’t sure exactly where you’re located;’ I said.
“Just tell ’em we’re next to Michelle’s Face Works,” he said as-Marino got out of his truck.
I met him in the parking lot and we walked with purpose toward Bray’s car. She didn’t notice us because she was talking on her portable phone and writing something down. When Marino tapped on her window, she turned to us, startled. Then her face turned hard. She said something else on her portable and ended her call. The window hummed down.
“Deputy Chief Bray? Thought that was you,”. Marino said as if they were old friends.
He bent down and peered inside her car. Bray was clearly off balance and one could almost see her calculating thoughts regrouping in her lead as she pretended there was nothing unusual about our running into her here.