Free Spiral by Jeremiah Healy

John, but the Marielitos have now been here nearly as long as my parents had been when the Marielitos arrived.”
    Justo was right. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed so quickly.
    Our waitress arrived with the pitcher of red ale and poured about ten ounces into each frosted mug.
    After she told us the ribs would be out shortly, I lifted my Killian’s. Thinking of our time together in Saigon, I clinked the rim of my mug against Justo’s. ”To absent friends.”
    At which point, Nancy’s loss hit me like a ton of bricks.
    ”And to present ones,” said Justo, I think before he saw my face. ”John, what is the matter?”
    I debated inside for what was probably too long.
    ”John?”
    I set down my mug without drinking from it. ”Since Beth died, there’s been only one other woman in my life.”
    ”The assistant prosecutor you told me about the last time you were in Florida.”
    ”Yes.”
    Justo sipped his ale. ”Troubles?”
    ”She died, too.”
    He froze, the mug only halfway back to the table. ”John, no.
    “That plane crash, off San Francisco.”
    Justo blinked. ”But the catastrophe was only... ten days ago?”
    ”More like twelve.”
    Finally, he set his mug down, too. ”And yet, my friend, you are here.”
    ”Because of the Skipper. Mostly, anyway. But partly also for a change of scene, to keep my mind occupied.”
    Reaching his right hand across the table, Justo squeezed my forearm. ”Does the Skipper know about your loss?”
    I shook my head. ”I haven’t told him, though I’m probably showing it.”
    ”Only to one such as I, who has seen you recently.”
    Get off the subject. ”Justo, a question about the case?”
    ”Of course.”
    ”Anybody benefit financially from Veronica Held’s death?”
    Justo’s turn to shake his head. ”Not that I can see. Her presence in the band was an advantage to everyone, and any other money flows from the Colonel downward, not from his granddaughter upward.”
    ”Another question then, about the Helides house.”
    ”If I can answer it, I will. But remember, I was not there on the day of the party.”
    ”I meant more about the current conditions.”
    Justo darkened a little. ”Go on.”
    ”Putting aside what we just talked about, I was basically propositioned by the Skipper’s new wife.”
    Justo darkened more. ”Not so ‘new,’ John. And not even ‘news,’ in its own right.” He paused. ”Did she invite you for a shower at her tennis apartment?”
    ”Her tennis...?”
    ”Apartment. Cassandra—or the Skipper, as a matter of record—owns a condominium at the Tennis Club of Fort Lauderdale.”
    ”She was wearing tennis clothes when I first saw her.” Justo nodded. ”The woman... propositioned me as well. Some time ago.” A frown. ”Apparently, her shower there is... large enough for two.”
    I pictured the ones in the suites I’d seen at the Helides house. ”You have any reason to believe we’re the only ones?”
    ”That Cassandra has approached?”
    ”That’s what I mean.”
    ”No. No, I fear it is endemic with her.”
    ”Does the Skipper know?”
    Justo seemed to weigh something. ”A man reaches a certain age, John, he tends to see only what he wants to see.”
    ”And hear only what he wants to hear?”
    ”Do you mean, did I advise him about Cassandra targeting me?”
    ”Or has anyone else?”
    ”Not that I know of. The Skipper is a proud man, but perhaps the stroke has caused him to... ignore what even his senses try to tell him.” Justo looked away for a moment. ”Also, his condition is causing him to become nostalgic.”
    ”The album from our service days?”
    ”An example, but such began even before Veronica was killed. In early January, Colonel F. J. Kelly died. Do you remember him?”
    ”The Special Forces commander in Vietnam?”
    ”Exactly so. When the Skipper read Colonel Kelly’s obituary, he called me.”
    ”Why?”
    ”To talk with someone about all the soldiers in his generation