The Sisterhood - Michael Palmer [106]
“What?” David demanded. “What don’t you understand?” His eyes flashed at her from their craters.
Christine began to cry. “I don’t understand,” she sobbed. “So much is happening and nothing makes sense. It’s horrible. The pain I’ve caused you. And Ben—they’ve killed Ben. Why? Why? I … I need time. Time to sort this all out. It’s crazy. Why would they do it?”
“Who’re they?” David asked. Christine didn’t answer. “Dammit,” he screamed, “what are you talking about? Who’re they?”
“Now just hold it a minute.” Joey put up a hand to each of them. “You’re both gonna have to calm down or we could all find ourselves in trouble. Leonard Vincent’s probably out of the picture, but there’s no guarantee he was working alone. The longer you two spend goin’ at one another like this, the more chance there is that some goon’s gonna crash in here and do it good to all three of us.” He paused, allowing the thought to sink in, and watched until he sensed an easing in the tension. “Okay. Now, Miss Beall, I don’t know you, but I do know the doc here, and I know the shit he’s been through. The way I see it, you’re both in hot water until this whole business is straightened out. I can see that the news we’ve brought has shaken you, but this man here deserves an explanation.”
“I … I don’t know what to say.” She spoke the words softly, as much to herself as to them.
Joey could see that she was coming apart. He glanced at David, whose expression suggested that he sensed the same thing. “Look,” Joey said finally, “maybe what we should do is just call the cops and—”
“No!” Christine blurted. “Please no. Not yet. There’s so much I don’t understand. A lot of innocent people could be hurt if I do the wrong thing.” She stopped and breathed deeply. When she continued, there was a new calm in her voice. “Please, you must believe me. I had nothing to do with Ben’s death. I liked him very much. He was going to help me.”
David leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “Okay.” He looked up slowly. “No police … yet. What do you want?”
“Some time,” she said. “Just a little time to work this whole thing through. I’ll tell you everything I know. I promise.”
David sensed himself soften before the sadness in her eyes and turned away.
“Look, Doc,” Rosetti said impatiently, “I meant what I said before. We’re just not smart stayin’ here any longer than we have to. If it’s no police, then it’s no police. If it’s some time to talk, then it’s some time to talk. Only not here.”
David heard the urgency in Rosetti’s voice and saw, for the first time, a flash of fear in his eyes. “Okay, we’ll get out,” he said. “But where? Where can we go? Certainly not my apartment. How about the tavern … or your place? Do you think Terry would be upset if we went there?”
“I have a better idea. Terry and me have this little hideaway up on the North Shore. I think if you two can keep from rippin’ each other apart without me for a referee it would be a perfect place. Doc, you can’t see yourself, but let me tell you, you look about ready for an embalmer. Why don’t you go on up there tonight and get some sleep. Tomorrow you can take all the time you need to talk things out.” David started to protest, but Rosetti stopped him. “This ain’t the time for arguin’, pal. You’re my friend. Terry’s friend too. So I know you’ll understand that I don’t want her mixed up in anything this messy. It’s the North Shore or you’re both on your own. Now what do you say?”
David looked over at Christine. She was slumped in her chair, staring at the floor. There was an innocence about her—a defenselessness—that was difficult to reconcile with his pain and the hell she had caused him to live through. Who are you? he thought. Exactly what is it you’ve done? And why?
“I … I guess if it’s okay