The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [73]
“Who’s going to be there?” Ben asked, buttoning his coat.
“Well, it’ll be my family, the four of us, and Lisa, if she’s coming.”
“What do you mean, the four of us? I’m not eating with Eric.”
“C’mon,” Nathan pleaded, opening the front door. “Now you’re being immature.”
“I’m not being immature. I just want to enjoy my time at your house. If Eric’s there, I won’t. It’s as simple as that.”
“What do you want me to do?” Nathan asked. “Should I tell him he can’t come? Should I invite everyone and leave him out? Besides, if he’s not invited, our mothers’ll never leave us alone. They’ll want to know the whole story, start to finish.”
Silent until they reached the corner, Ben said, “Fine. He can come.”
“Thank you,” Nathan said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m glad your forgiving side won out.”
“Don’t think this has anything to do with forgiveness. I just weighed my hatred for Eric against the consequences of maternal interrogation. From there it was no contest. Moms are undefeated.”
Ben and Nathan walked three more blocks until they reached Rob’s Camera and Video. As they approached the store, Ben said, “We’ll probably have to enlarge the photo.”
“It won’t be a problem. They can do that within an hour. I’m more worried that the license won’t give us good information.”
“It definitely will. Even if it only gives us a limo company, that’s a start.” Ben opened the door for his friend and followed him inside.
Nathan pulled out the two ticket stubs and handed them to one of the two female clerks waiting behind the counter. “We have some pictures to pick up.”
As one of the clerks took the stubs to the photo bins, the other looked at Ben. “Did you go to Maryland undergrad? Because you look really familiar.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” Ben said. “My friend did, though. He got a degree in shoelace tying.” Pointing to Nathan’s feet, he asked, “Have you ever seen anything tied so tight in your whole life? I mean, besides him?”
The clerk leaned over the counter. “That is a nice bow.”
“I’m sorry,” the other clerk said, shuffling though the envelopes of finished photos. “When did we say your pictures would be ready?”
“You said to pick them up this morning,” Nathan said. “They were under the last name Oberman. Two rolls of film.”
The clerk shook her head. “I can’t find them here. Hold on a second.” The clerk flipped through a small looseleaf binder and stopped on a page. “Wait, I found them. They were picked up about an hour ago by your friend.”
A chill ran down Ben’s back. “What friend?”
“Oh, I remember that guy. I helped him,” the other clerk said. “He said that if you came in, we should tell you that he already picked up the photos.”
“This wouldn’t happen to be a tall guy with blond hair and droopy eyes?” Ben asked.
“That’s him,” she said. “He was so sweet.”
“Fuck!” Ben said, banging the glass counter.
“Relax,” Nathan said. Looking at the perplexed clerks, Nathan explained, “That wasn’t our friend. You gave our pictures to someone who shouldn’t have seen them.”
“I’m so sorry,” the clerk said. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan said.
“What do you mean, don’t worry about it?” Ben yelled. Turning to the clerks, he asked, “Don’t you have a policy about picking film up? Don’t you always ask for a receipt?”
“He knew the name—he said you guys were friends.”
“Do you keep any negatives on file?” Ben shot back. “Anything at all in case someone walks off with your pictures?”
“No. The negatives go right back to the customer.”
“I don’t fuckin’ believe this,” Ben said, walking to the door.
“You don’t happen to have security cameras here, do you?” Nathan asked. “Something that might’ve snapped a picture of our friend?”
“I’m sorry, we don’t,” the clerk said. “They were stolen when we were robbed last March.”
“Unbelievable,” Ben said as he left the store.
Waving to the clerks, Nathan said, “Thanks for your help,” and walked outside. Running to catch up with Ben, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left the photos in there overnight.