Free Envy the Night by Michael Koryta Page A

milk to spoil.”
    A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Wouldn’t want that, no. Thanks for the help. He just walked right in here . . .”
    “You don’t know him?”
    “No. He came in this afternoon and asked about the Lexus.”
    Frank tilted his head. “Car that I hit?”
    “You got it.”
    He blew out a long sigh as a siren began to close on the body shop and looked to the side, where the partially disassembled Lexus stood.
    “That guy was all wrong. Shit, I’m sorry. I should have said something earlier. Had a bad sense about him, but I was trying to ignore it. Figured it had nothing to do with me.”
    That was total bullshit—Frank’s original sense about the guy was a personal thing indeed, but he didn’t see what would be gained from explaining that to Nora.
    “I had the same sense, and told myself the same thing,” she said, “but I didn’t count on this.”
    She was holding her right wrist with her left hand, rubbing it gently, and Frank saw for the first time the dark red streaks left on her skin, left by a firm and no doubt painful grasp.
    “You okay?” he said.
    “Fine.” She dropped her arm as if embarrassed to have her pain noted.
    “What did he want?” Frank gestured at the unconscious man with his toe.
    “To know where your buddy in the Lexus went.”
    “No kidding?” Frank looked at the guy on the floor. He’d arrived pretty damn fast after the car was left at Stafford’s Collision and Custom. And if he didn’t know where Dave O’Connor had gone, then how had he found the Lexus?
    Frank slid the Glock out of his waistband and looked at it. Good gun, not uncommon, but the sort of thing preferred by people who knew what they were doing. The guy he’d taken it from hadn’t been that bad, either. Just hadn’t expected Frank to be any good, that was the difference. The way he’d shoved Nora past him and cleared the gun in one swift, easy motion . . . he’d been around.
    “He told me the guy’s name was Vaughn,” Nora said.
    “What?”
    “Dave O’Connor, right? That’s what he told us his name was. This guy, he said the person driving the Lexus was named Vaughn.”
    “You see a driver’s license, any sort of ID?”
    She shook her head, and he saw a spark of irritation in her eyes. Maybe at him for asking, maybe at herself for not getting it.
    “Anything in the car?” Frank asked, but the sirens were in the parking lot outside, and Nora walked away from him, toward the door. The guy on the floor was starting to come back, rolling his right foot a little, eyes still closed, left side of his face pressed to the cold stone.
    The cop came in with Nora, and Frank was surprised to see it was just one guy. About forty, ruddy faced, thick fingers. He was speaking into the microphone near his collarbone as he entered, reporting his position and situation, casting a scowl at the sight of the body on the floor. When he was done talking into his radio, he withdrew a plastic bag from his hip pocket and reached out to Frank.
    “Gimme the gun.” His badge said
MOWERY.
    Frank dropped the gun in the bag, and Mowery sealed the plastic lock and jammed the gun, bag and all, into his belt. He nodded at the man at his feet.
    “His gun.”
    “That’s right.”
    “You took it from him.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “After he pulled it.”
    “Yeah.”
    Mowery studied Frank as if he weren’t sure he believed it. “What’d you hit him with?”
    “Hands, at first. Then a wrench.”
    “That seemed like a wise idea to you? Swinging on a man with a gun?”
    “It worked.”
    “Hmm.” Mowery squatted beside the tall man, whose eyes had fluttered open, leaving him staring blearily across the floor. “Looks like he’s ’bout ready to rejoin the world. Best that he do that with his hands cuffed, don’t you think?”
    “Nobody else coming?” Frank said.
    Mowery gave him a sour look. “We got a lot of county and few cars to cover it right now, son. You really think I need to bring all