“I’m sure you’re both sorry to see me go,” Devlin said at the door. “I’d love to stay for dinner but I’m supposed to meet a group of nuns over at
Rosalie’s.” He laughed a hoarse laugh as he pulled the door closed behind himself.
For a few moments neither Jeffrey nor Carol moved. They could hear a car start out in the street, then pull away. Carol was the one to break the silence: “What happened at the bank?” she demanded. She was furious. “Why didn’t they have the money for you?”
Jeffrey didn’t answer. He just looked at his wife dumbly. He was shaking from his reaction to Devlin. The balance between anger and terror had tilted to terror. Devlin was the embodiment of Jeffrey’s worst fears, especially since he understood he had no defense against him and no protection from the law. Devlin was just the kind of person Jeffrey imagined populated the prisons. Jeffrey was surprised the man hadn’t threatened to break his kneecaps. Despite his Irish name, he seemed like a character straight from the Mafia.
“Answer me!” Carol demanded. “Where have you been?”
With his briefcase still in hand, Jeffrey started for his room. He wanted to be alone. The nightmare vision of a prison filled with inmates all like
Devlin came to him in a dizzying rush.
Carol grabbed his arm. “I’m talking to you!” she snapped.
Jeffrey stopped and looked down at Carol’s hand gripping his arm. “Let go of me,” he said in a controlled voice.
“Not until you talk to me and tell me where you’ve been.”
“Let go of me,” Jeffrey said menacingly.
Thinking better of it, Carol let go of his arm. Again he started for his room. She quickly fell in behind him. “You are not the
only one around here who has been under strain,” she yelled after him. “I think I deserve some kind of explanation. I had to entertain that animal for hours.”
Jeffrey stopped at his door. “I’m sorry,” he said. He owed her that. Carol was right behind him.
“I think I’ve been pretty understanding through all this,” Carol said. “Now
I want to know what happened at the bank. Dudley said yesterday there would be no problems.”
“I’ll talk to you about it later.” He needed a few minutes to calm down.
“I want to talk about it now,” Carol persisted.
Jeffrey opened his door and stepped into the room. Carol tried to push through after him, but Jeffrey blocked her way. “Later!” he said, louder than he’d meant to. He closed the door on her. Carol heard the lock click into place.
She pounded on the door in frustration and began to cry. “You’re impossible! I don’t know why I was willing to wait on the divorce. This is the thanks I get.” Sobbing, she gave the door a kick, then ran down the hall to her own room.
Jeffrey slammed the briefcase down on his bed, then sat down next to it. He didn’t mean to aggravate Carol like that, but he couldn’t help it. How could he explain what he was going through when there hadn’t been any real communication between them for years? He knew he owed her an explanation, but he didn’t want to confide in her until he’d decided what to do. If he told her he had the cash in hand, she’d make him take it to the bank first thing. But Jeffrey needed time to think first. For what felt like the fortieth time that day alone, he wasn’t sure what he would do.
For the moment, he got up and went into the bathroom. He filled a glass with water and held it with both hands as he drank. He was still shaking from a whirlpool of emotions. He looked at himself in the mirror. There was a scratch on the end of his nose where Devlin had flicked him. Both his ears were bright red. He shuddered when he recalled how defenseless he’d felt in front of the man.
Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and eyed the briefcase. Flipping open the latches, he lifted the lid and pushed aside Chris Everson’s notes. He looked at the neat packets of hundred-dollar bills and found himself wishing that he’d stayed on the plane that afternoon. If he had, he’d now be well on his way to Rio and some sort of new life. Anything had to be better than what