Authors: Laura Resnick

Unsympathetic Magic (30 page)

BOOK: Unsympathetic Magic

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“Well, I hope you continue feeling better, Mike,” I said as I saw Lopez reenter the lobby. He looked around the empty area and then walked over to me. “I’ll see you back on the set on Monday.”

“Another thing I was thinking about,” Nolan said. “When you’re kneeling in front of me and you say—”

“I’ve got to go,” I said, looking up at Lopez. “Bye.”

As I ended the call, Lopez asked without enthusiasm, “The set of
The Dirty Thirty?
”

I nodded. “We’re resuming filming of my episode on Monday.” I recounted the news I’d just received.

“Are you kidding?” He sat down beside me on the stairs. “That guy had a heart attack less than forty- eight hours ago. Is he crazy?”

“I have a feeling he’s afraid to miss work. The show has two other talented costars and a strong supporting cast,” I said. Actually, for all that he was a jerk, Nolan was a compelling performer and his antihero character was very popular, but I didn’t underestimate the neuroses of a self-absorbed star. “I’ll bet that Nolan is worried he’ll lose the spotlight if he gets written out of a few episodes because of his health.”

“Even so,” Lopez said, “you’d think that the risk of dying young would scare him more.”

I smiled at my practical companion. “You don’t know actors.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

More than ready to stop discussing Michael Nolan, I asked, “Is Napoleon locked up?”

“They call him Napoleon? I’d say he’s about two feet taller than his namesake. Anyhow, yeah, he’s contained.” Lopez added, “And his cage is nicer than my first apartment.”

“Then you’d think he would spend more time in it.” I put my cell phone away. “It’s such a relief to have my purse back. Thank you so much!”

“No problem.”

“Where did the cops find it?”

“In a garbage can right outside the Harlem Market.”

I knew that place. A few blocks south of here, it was a semienclosed space with market stalls where the vendors sold African souvenirs: tribal masks, leather goods, clothing, decorative objects, drums, and music. “I wonder how my purse wound up there?”

“Probably dumped deliberately,” Lopez said.“Whoever had your bag didn’t want to get caught with it, and I think they didn’t really know what to do with it. So they probably figured its contents would get stolen and scattered pretty quickly if they left it at such a busy location.”

“I’m lucky that didn’t happen.” I clutched the bag gratefully to my chest.

“One of the market vendors found it. He called the cops.”

“Really? I should go thank him!”

“Not a bad idea,” Lopez said. “Maybe more guys would report petty crime if they thought a pretty woman would come around and thank them for it.”

The silence that descended between us after he said this lengthened until it grew awkward.

I gazed across the floor of the lobby. Nelli’s blood was smeared all over the place, and the cracked wooden sculpture lay where it had fallen. I would have enjoyed seeing Catherine or Mambo Celeste have to clean up the mess, but I assumed the foundation employed a janitor or a cleaning service.

Feeling Lopez’s sidelong glance, I gestured to the wreckage. “Uh, I can explain this.”

He shook his head. “No need.”

I looked at him. “Really?”

“Well, in one sole building, we have a huge snake and a woman too silly to keep it in a cage where it belongs, Max and his neurotic dog, a teenager with a sword, and—oh, yes—
you
.” He shrugged. “I’d say the results were inevitable.”

“Hey,
I
tried to prevent this from happening.”

“Yeah, that was my first thought when I got here and saw you wading through blood and giving a half nelson to a hysterical dog the size of a minivan: Esther must be trying to prevent trouble.”

“Prevention wasn’t going as smoothly as I would have liked,” I admitted. “Not all of us can manhandle a dog that size by her collar, Stud Muffin.”

“You should never get that close to the teeth of a dog that’s not in its right mind,” he said seriously. “If she had bitten you by accident . . .”

“It all happened pretty fast,” I said. “I don’t like that snake, but that doesn’t mean I think we should let our dog kill it. Anyhow, I’m not so sure Nelli would have won.”

“You couldn’t have talked Max into getting a kitten?” he said with some exasperation.

“Nelli has special qualities.” Seeing his skeptical expression, I added, “They’re not immediately apparent, I grant you.”

“Well, I suppose she’s slightly more cuddly than a seven-foot-long boa constrictor.” He grimaced. “What do you think they feed that snake?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.”

“And, Jesus, the way he attacked that woman—”

“Mambo Celeste,” I said.

“The way he attacked Mambo Celeste when he was scared . . . Well, you’d think she’d reconsider her choice of house pet now.”

“She won’t,” I said with certainty. “He represents Damballah, a sacred . . . something or other.”

I was suddenly very tired of this place, and I looked forward to spending tonight singing old favorites to cheerful tourists in a noisy restaurant downtown. And as another silence descended between us, I also suddenly recalled how many things I didn’t particularly want to discuss with my companion.

“Well, thanks again for bringing my purse. I really appreciate it.” I got to my feet. “I have to go to the restaurant now. Bye.”

“Nice try.” He pulled me back down beside him. “We have to talk.”

“I’ll be late for work,” I lied.

“We’ve got Bella Stella under surveillance,” he pointed out. “I know what time your shift starts.”

“Surveillance? That’s a waste of taxpayer money,” I said. “The restaurant’s full of tourists at this time of year. All the wiseguys are on their summer vacations.”

“Fair point,” he said. “Get any postcards from Lucky Battistuzzi lately?”

“One,” I said, refusing to apologize for my friendship with the semiretired hit man. “He’s enjoying his tour of Sicily.”

“Ah, yes. Visiting the sights, enjoying the food, reminiscing about the good old days with other retired Mafia killers.” He shrugged. “I’m just guessing, of course.”

“He went there to recover from a broken heart,” I said crisply. “But since
you
seem able to move on from a woman so easily, you probably can’t understand that.” I rose to my feet again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to work.”

“Wait just a damn minute.” He rose, too, looking irritable now. “Who got out of bed in the middle of the night as soon as you asked for help? Who faced a firing squad of laughing cops to get your arrest erased? Who’s been driving the Two- Five crazy for the past couple of days because of what happened to you in their precinct?”

“Oh, you’d drive them crazy about that no matter
who
got mugged and found a severed hand there.”

“Well . . .” He backed down a little. “Okay, that’s probably true.”

“Anyhow, now we’re square,” I said tersely.

He frowned. “We’re square for
what?
”

“We broke up, then you got me out of jail.” Jeff’s interpretation of events had stung more than I’d realized. “So we’re even now.”

“How are we
even?
” he asked in bewilderment.

“You don’t owe me anything else.”

“I didn’t ‘owe’ you
that
,” he snapped.

“Fine,” I snapped back. “Then I guess
I
owe
you
now.”

“What’s the
matter
with you?”

“Tell me the truth.” Still smarting from the humiliation of Jeff’s comments, I said, “Did you help me the other night because you felt guilty?”

“Guilty? About what?”

“About dumping me,” I said impatiently.

“What are you talking about? I
didn’t
dump you! I . . . I . . .” His blue eyes suddenly blazed with surprise in his dark face, and a look of sheer astonishment replaced his angry expression. “I dumped you?” After a stunned pause, he sat back down on the steps, looking thunderstruck. “Oh, my God. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess you’re right. I, uh . . . I
dumped
you, didn’t I?”

I folded my arms across my chest as I looked down at him. “It’s always good when we can clear up these little misunderstandings.”

“I dumped you,” he repeated, looking at me in amazement.

“And obviously that’s something I particularly enjoy hearing repeated. Go on, say it again,” I said, as he continued staring at me. “It makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.”

He was still looking at me with a bemused expression.

“Lopez?” I prodded.

Lost in his own thoughts, he gave a little start. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that you felt that way. I mean, that you thought I had dumped you.”

“You
did
dump me.”

“Well, yes, I know that
now
.”

“How could you not know it before?” I demanded.

He made a vague gesture. “I didn’t think of it as dumping you.”

“God, I had no idea how much of a . . .
guy
you could be,” I said in disgust.

“Honestly, I thought of what happened as . . .” He ran his hands over his face, then he rested his chin on them as he contemplated something invisible. “I thought of it more like . . . I don’t know . . .” He shrugged as he searched for an example. “
Born Free,
when they decide Elsa really can’t be domesticated and they’ve got to let her go.”

“What?”

“Or
A Beautiful Mind,
when they realize they’ve got to lock up Russell Crowe.”

“I’m not liking the comparisons,” I said.

“It’s like wanting peanut butter so much that you eat it in your dreams. But when you’re awake, you know you’ll go into anaphylactic shock if you touch the stuff.” He gave himself a little shake and stood up. “Do you see what I’m saying?”

“Something about food allergies, mental illness, and a fear that I’ll attack livestock?”

“Exactly.”

“What the hell are you
talking
ab—” I gasped as he suddenly backed me against the wall and braced his hands on either side of me.

“I didn’t dump you,” he said quietly, his gaze locked with mine. “I gave you up.”

“Oh.” The word came out on a wispy breath.

“
Now
do you see?” His dark lashes lowered as his attention shifted to my mouth.

“Um . . .”

“And I didn’t come to Harlem at three o’clock in the morning to get you out of jail because I felt guilty.” He leaned closer to me.

“No?”

“No.” His lips hovered near mine.

My fingers curled into the fabric of his lightweight summer jacket as I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft tickle of his breath on my cheek and the anticipation of the moment.

My heartbeat got louder, drowning out everything else as he whispered, “I came because you asked me to.”

The sound of a polite cough penetrated my senses.

My eyes flew open and I looked over Lopez’s shoulder as he whirled to face the intruder. Catherine was standing a few feet away. She gestured to the staircase that we were half blocking.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said in a cool voice. “I need to get to my office.”

“Of course.” Lopez turned to me. “We should leave.”

“You two know each other, then?” Catherine raised her brows and looked at me. I suspected that my face was flushed. “You didn’t mention that when you asked me about his visit, Esther.”

Lopez gave me a sharp glance.

I decided that changing the subject immediately was my best available option. “I’m so sorry about Nelli’s behavior.” I shrugged and spread my hands. “I guess she’s never seen a snake before.”

Catherine said, “I don’t want that dog coming here again.”

“No, of course not,” I said. “I’ll speak to Max. And I’m sorry about the mess in the lobby.” However, I thought Mambo Celeste should apologize for at least half of that.

“Dr. Livingston,” Lopez said, “it’s not a good idea for a snake that size to be in an uncontrolled area with a handler who can’t manage him.”

“We weren’t expecting an attack from a vicious dog on our own premises,” she said crisply.

“Nelli isn’t vicious!” I protested. “She’s just, uh . . . high-strung.”

“A dangerous trait in a dog that size,” said Catherine.

She had a point, and Lopez’s glance warned me not to get into a fruitless argument with her about it.

BOOK: Unsympathetic Magic

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