Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [38]
“We do,” Marge said. “It’s Deep Throat.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Anyway, Mr. Hinton bored me to tears, but that whole thing got Greg very excited. I thought he was gonna work on the paper. But when I asked him about it at the beginning of the year, he said he wasn’t interested. Then I transferred out because tenth grade was becoming a repeat of ninth grade, only worse. So I was real surprised when Greg called me up and said that he had some news that was going to turn B and W on top of its head.”
“Go on,” Decker encouraged him.
“So I asked him what the news was, and Greg said he couldn’t tell me. And then he said not to tell anyone, not even Joey Reinhart who is his best friend. And the only reason he told me is because I’m not in the school anymore.”
Marge and Decker waited for Kevin to continue. After a few moments of silence, the boy got to the point. He said, “The next time I talked to Greg, I asked about the big story again. And he said he still couldn’t talk about it. But he definitely sounded less excited than the first time, like things weren’t going so well. And I asked him if he was okay, and he said he was great. But something was off. So I tried to press him, but he kept insisting that he was great, only he was working hard and a lot more tired than usual.”
He stopped talking.
“That’s it.”
“He never told you any more?” Marge asked.
“Nope. I don’t know anything more than what I just told you. But I thought I’d tell you because you never know what’s important. So . . . that’s it.”
Decker said, “He didn’t give you any idea as to what he was working on?”
“Nope. I’d tell you if I knew.”
Marge said, “Do you know if he was working on the story with anyone else?”
“It never got that far.” The boy looked at his watch. “My mom’s gonna be home soon. I’d appreciate it if you, like . . .”
Decker stood. Both he and Marge gave Kevin their cards. “If you think of anything else, feel free to call.”
“I will.” Kevin stood up and opened the door. “It’s not so hard to understand . . . what Greg did. There were times back in B and W when I thought about doing the exact same thing. All I can say is I’m happy that I didn’t have a gun close by.”
They decided to meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays at six in the morning since Gabe had to wake up early anyway to catch the bus to SC.
Monday for him was torture. They texted each other about a billion times.
Tuesday turned out to be just as torturous but in a different way. They met for coffee and they talked, which was nice and all that, but they couldn’t be physical except maybe hold hands under the table and give each other’s leg a quick squeeze. So the space between them, although inches in reality, felt like miles. After she left for school, Gabe felt frustrated and aroused and had to sit on the damn bus for an hour plus with all the other L.A. castoffs.
His lessons went well. Nick commented on it . . . that he was playing with more passion. He also told Gabe that it was time for him to start playing gigs.
I arranged for someone to come hear you. You’ve got to start soon. You’re not that young anymore.
A has-been by fifteen.
Who’s the guy?
A very well-known agent. He deals with all the summer chamber music festivals. That’s as good a start as any to get your feet wet. He’ll be here on Thursday. I want you at the university by eight in the morning, well fed and well rested. Got it?
Got it.
He came home at six in the afternoon, hungry and pissed. There was nothing in the fridge. Rina came into the kitchen and saw him foraging in the cupboards.
“There’s not a whole lot to eat,” she told him.
“I can see that.”
Rina said, “I’m meeting Peter at the deli. Want to come?”
“I’m tired,” Gabe told her.
“I’ll bring you something home.”
“I’m tired but I’m hungry.” Gabe thought a moment. “Can I drive?”
“If you’re not too tired, yes.”
“Can we take the Porsche?”
“No.”
Gabe made a face. “Okay. I’ll come. I’m starved.”
“Let’s go.” She picked up her purse and extracted the keys. “When was the last time