a slight chance that I could be arrested for having sex with a minor, even if said minor was only four months younger than me. She’d be eighteen in four days anyway, for godsakes.
Luckily for Mannix over there, he aimed the light away from Bren and back on me. “You know, it’s illegal to park back here. It’s a commercial lot. There are cameras.” I strained my neck out the window to see where he was redirecting his flashlight, and took note of the surveillance camera attached to the top corner of the building. “Bet they filmed one hell of a movie,” he added with a greasy smile.
This asshole had a beatdown coming to him. Too bad I couldn’t be the one to give it to him. He may have thought I was just some stupid kid but I was smart enough to avoid prison. Even still, I couldn’t help the clench of my jaw as I answered him through my teeth. “We’ll keep that in mind, sir .”
His face contorted, surprised and encouraged that I rose to the bait. My eyes shifted to his nametag because I figured I’d better get the name of the guy who was about to arrest my ass. I knew I’d never forget the name O’Leary as long as I lived.
But as it turned out, he knew as well as I did that he didn’t have anything to nail me on, so he simply offered a last twist of the knife. “Please do. Maybe you’ll remember what happened here tonight and next time, you’ll decide to keep it in your pants.”
CHAPTER 13
Easy Money
EDDIE
Wednesday, October 8
1980
A s the gates opened, I navigated my car up the long, winding driveway and pulled up in front of Beau Brummel’s “house.” I use the term sparingly because the Tudor mansion I was looking at was the most ostentatious pile of bricks I’d ever seen.
Suited its owner perfectly.
Brummel was a guy we went to school with a million years ago. When you attended a prestigious private school like St. Nicetius, you couldn’t escape meeting people who came from some wealthy families. A lot of the kids were just middle-class like me and Bren, but there were also a bunch of bluebloods who were just dripping money.
Beau Brummel was one of them.
Looked like he’d done alright by daddy’s seed money, however. This house was his own.
I reached the top of the drive and went to get out of the car, but some random gentleman had appeared to assist me with the endeavor. He opened my door with a fruity flourish, holding his free hand out toward me. “Your keys, sir.”
What the hell? Brummel’s got valet for his own fucking driveway?
I tried to seem cool as I handed them over, then watched the guy take off in my baby. It may have just been a broken-down ‘Stang but I still held onto the vision of what it once was. Besides, it was one of the only things I owned outright, and I wasn’t feeling too comforted by the fact that some stranger had just disappeared with it. I sure as hell hope he works here .
Taking a huge inhale, I readied myself for the encounter ahead. The air was crisp that night, that end-of-summer, fall-is-coming, evening chill that marked the inevitable slide into a new season. I used to love that time of year. Bren and I started dating in the fall of ’69, and the simple scent of dead leaves always reminded me of her.
The smell brought me no nostalgic comfort that night, however.
It had been over two whole weeks since I’d seen her. Sixteen long days since I kissed her out front of our friends’ house. My mind had been in a daze since then and Tony was being pretty patient about the fact that my work was suffering. I think he was actually relieved when I decided to take the night off.
“Mr. Edwards,” I heard behind me. When I turned, yet another guy was standing at the opened front door, evidently waiting for me.
“Yeah—I mean, yes, that’s me. Who are you?”
“My name is James. Mr. Brummel is expecting you. Please come inside.”
Mr.
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