Free Collateral Damage by Austin Camacho Page B

while Oscar heated clam chowder and fried grilled cheese sandwiches on the gas stove. The cooking aromas barely overpowered the lilac air freshener. He delivered the food to the table without a touch of embarrassment. Hannibal pulled off his gloves to eat, but chose to leave his sunglasses on, even in the dim house.
    â€œI used to date Joan Kitteridge you know,” Oscar said, biting into his sandwich. Hannibal wondered if it was true. This was clearly a lonely man, and lonely people will often say whatever they think will hold another person’s attention.
    â€œSo how did you and Dean become friends? He been here long?”
    Oscar nodded, accepting Hannibal’s question as the price of keeping him interested. “Dean turned up about six months ago I guess. Not long after I joined the company. He crashed here a couple of times in those days. He and I became, well, close.”
    â€œReally?” Hannibal said, wiping his hands on the napkin Oscar offered. “And when he stopped crashing here? Did he start crashing at Kitteridge’s right after that?”
    Oscar looked surprised to find anyone knew that. “Um, yeah I guess so. She kind of took a liking to him.”
    Hannibal considered what Joan had told him. “Oscar, what is Dean so afraid of?”
    Oscar’s eyes flashed up at Hannibal, his smile twitching. “Dean? Don’t know what he might be scared of. Never know what’s going on with that guy.”
    â€œWhat about you?” Hannibal laced his fingers on the table, keeping his face open. “Seen anything around that company that might make employees nervous? Or something about Joan Kitteridge?”
    â€œWell, I see everything that goes on up there,” Oscar said, “but I have to get back to work pretty soon. I’d be happy to give you all the dirty little details later.” His nervous little hand moved out to cover Hannibal’s. “You could stay all night.”
    Hannibal felt his stomach jump as his body clenched. He pulled his hand away as if burned and jumped to his feet.
    â€œI think I’ve got enough.”
    But as Hannibal marched toward the door, Oscar spun in his chair, his eyes widening behind his thick lenses. “I’m sorry. Please don’t run off. I’m the one who’s scared. Don’t leave me alone here.”
    Hannibal opened the door and stood with his hand on the outside knob. “Just what are you afraid of?”
    â€œI’m afraid for my life,” Oscar said, his voice begging. “My life has been threatened. There’s trouble on my tail, followed me all the way from Europe.”
    â€œSounds like a job for the police,” Hannibal said, pulling his gloves back on.
    â€œThe police never believe you until it’s too late,” Oscar said. “If you’re helping Dean you should be helping me.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “I can pay you.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Hannibal said, harder than he intended. “I’ve already got two clients. Look, after I talk to Dean, I’ll check back with you on that.”
    Hannibal was in his car before he realized that Oscar had not followed. He sat still for a moment, breathing deeply. He didn’t like to think of himself as phobic. He didn’t like to think he was afraid of anything, there were just some things he didn’t like. Like men touching him. Besides, that could have been a genuine cry for help Oscar was sounding. If Oscar was in trouble, it could lead to an explanation for Dean’s running off.
    Or it could have simply been the cry of loneliness, Hannibal decided as he started his car. And besides, he had done what he was being paid to do. He had found Dean Edwards. He jabbed at the buttons on his car phone while he steered himself back to Route 7 pointed toward Alexandria. After five rings, Cindy’s hello pushed into the car, effortlessly blowing away the cloud that had