Free Slow Burn by G. M. Ford Page B

business?"
    "And I'll
give him this," she said. "He had sense enough to see that the market
was ripe for expansion. In those days, venture capitalists were coming out of
the woodwork trying to give away money. There was a real gap in the upscale
steak business."
    "You said
something about her family."
    "She had
two children by a previous marriage. A boy and a girl. In their early teens.
They lived with their father."
    "Probably
for the best," I offered lamely. " She sighed. "One would have
thought so."
    I knew what my
line was supposed to be. "But?"
    "Oh, I
hate to gossip."
    Oh, yeah. I
held my piece. She didn't disappoint. "Sometimes," she mused,
"bad things come in threes." "What was next?" I prodded.
"The father dropped dead." "And Jack ended up with the
kids?" "Hardly," she scoffed. "Mr. Del Fuego is without a
nurturing bone in his entire bloated body." "She have family? "
    "Just some
trailer-trash sister who wouldn't take them."
    -  
"So?"
    "He farmed
them out to foster care, where, as I understand it, they came to bad
ends." "Bad ends?"
    Abby showed me
a small palm. "I can say no more," she said, then took my elbow and
turned me toward the door.
    "I assure
you, Mr. Waterman, my security needs are under complete control. Would you
please remember to thank Sir Geoffrey for his concern." I was getting the
boot.
    "Mr. Del
Fuego denies vandalizing your property."
    She stopped in
her tracks. Drapeman and Doorman stood in the middle of the room. That's when
she told Spaulding to get the tape.
    When Spaulding
reappeared, he wasn't alone. Brie Meyerson was not at all what I expected.
First off, she wasn't a kid. Contrary to rumor, Brie Meyerson was a full-blown
woman of about twenty. Not beautiful, but pretty in an old-fashioned sort of
way. She smelled of soap and her hair was still damp.
    Her mother
introduced us and then turned toward the entertainment center, where Frick and
Frack were trying to get the tape to play. "Is there a problem?" Her
tone suggested that problems were only for the lame and the halten.
    When she didn't
get an answer, Abigail Meyerson walked over and began to add her two cents to
the problem. Spaulding called them a bunch of spazzes and popped another Coke.
    Brie asked me,
"And what part in this circus do you play?"
    I told her, and
then turned the question around.
    She was
entering her junior year at Bryn Mawr College. Her mother had insisted that
both she and Spaulding, who had just flunked out of either his fifth or sixth
prep school, accompany her for the summer to get a feel for the business. It
had been a nightmare.
    "Two weeks
to go," she whispered. "Bye. Nice to meet you."
    She slipped out
the door and was gone just as Spaulding couldn't take it anymore. "Jesus.
Here, let me in there."
    He crossed the
room, knelt before the VCR, pushed a couple of buttons and stood off to the
side, grinning for all he was worth.
    Me, I readied
my poker face. I was the man of steel.
    "I hope,
Mr. Waterman, that this will give you some idea of the depths of perversity to
which this man has sunk."
    The picture
flickered on. Color. Good production values. Probably made for a promotional or
training film. Abigail Meyerson stood behind an oak podium, speaking into a
microphone. Over her left shoulder, the head- of a neon Angus bull winked down
in good-natured invitation, and the familiar red letters spelled out ABBY'S
ANGUS.
    "It is
with great pleasure," she intoned. "That here, on the occasion of our
thirty-fifth restaurant, we take a moment to acknowledge those . . ." The
camera angle widened. Spaulding stood up on the dais, shifting his weight from
foot to foot and picking his nose. Brie wore a white sundress the way I always
thought one ought to be worn. I chastised myself for impure thoughts and tuned
back in to the speech.
    Before I could
pick up the thread, however, it happened.
    With an alldible
pop, the whole sign flickered and died. And then, just as quickly, recovered
its former brilliance. Except for the