Free 12 Rose Street by Gail Bowen

here. The one time he encountered Pantera was not pleasant.”
    Zack laughed quietly at the memory. “It was pleasant for Pantera. He got to push his snout into Darryl’s ass and usher him out of the house.”
    “I’ll put the dogs upstairs,” I said. “I still shudder when I remember the size of Darryl’s dry cleaning bill.”
    I shepherded Willie and Pantera into our room. As I changed clothing, I summoned up my memories of Darryl Colby. There were mercifully few. The first time I met him was at a bar association Christmas party. He sang “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” in a big booming bass, and I told Zack that Darryl seemed like a lot of fun. Zack shuddered and saidthat, in the immortal words of Dr. Seuss, Darryl was as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel and I’d be smart to stay away from him. Except for Darryl’s memorable encounter with Pantera I’d kept my distance.
    Darryl Colby was near the top of my list of people I never wanted to see standing on my doorstep, but seemingly my options were being whittled away. When he called from downstairs, I buzzed him in. His aftershave, heavy with the scent of musk, made my eyes water. He was tall, heavy-set, large-featured, and raven-haired. Before Darryl stepped over the threshold, he looked past me suspiciously.
    “I shut the dogs into one of the rooms upstairs,” I said.
    Darryl didn’t acknowledge my assurance that he was safe; in fact, he didn’t acknowledge my presence at all. Zack came out to meet him, hand extended in greeting. “It was good of you to meet me here, Darryl. Can I get you something to drink?”
    Darryl didn’t shake Zack’s hand, but he did place his order. “Double JD on the rocks,” he said. I led Darryl to the dining room. He put his briefcase on the table and waited. Zack wheeled back with three glasses of bourbon on the tray on his lap. He handed the drinks around.
    “Joanne will be joining us, Darryl,” he said. “Obviously the information in Cronus’s will affects us both and she should be here when you explain the specifics.”
    Darryl took a large sip from his glass. “That won’t take long,” he said. He removed a folder from his briefcase. “Here’s the will. I’ve couriered Cronus’s files to your office at Falconer Shreve. You have three floors of lawyers there. They won’t have any difficulty handling the legal work.”
    Zack raised an eyebrow. “You’re quitting?”
    “I want to be as far away from this as possible,” he said. Then he drained his glass and picked up his briefcase. “I hope you realize that Cronus has really fucked you.”
    “Was that his intent?” Zack said.
    Darryl shook his head. “No,” he said. “Cronus believed you were his one true friend.”
    “So why would he fuck me?”
    Darryl’s smile was both smug and cruel. “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he said. Then he left.
    When we heard the door close behind him, Zack picked up his glass. “So what do you think?”
    “I think I’m glad you pour generous drinks,” I said. “I’d better get dinner started. What are you in the mood for?”
    “Spaghetti,” Zack said. “I’ll take a look at the will and whatever other goodies Darryl brought us and then I’ll come and make a salad.”
    By the time Taylor came home from school, the spaghetti sauce was simmering but Zack was still hunched over his laptop. Our family tries to keep mealtime talk light and lively. That night Taylor carried the ball for the three of us. She’d had a very good day. She’d been invited to a sixteenth birthday party sleepover on a farm where the parents owned riding horses. Her new Latin teacher actually made Latin
interesting,
and best of all, her first-term schedule had three days with no first period classes, so she could paint at night and do homework in the morning.
    In its previous incarnation, the building in which we lived had been a warehouse where women kept their winter furs. The words COLD STORAGE,