“And we’ve tapped your home phone. Your computer, too.”

“Why?”

“We’re a controlling bunch, at least until we get what we want.”

I don’t like the sound of that. Up to now, I’ve been waiting for Perkins to open my door, but he’s still in the front seat, probably scared to move without being told. I shrug and let myself out the door and fish the keys from my pocket. I’ve got the briefcase in my left hand, but it’s feeling ten times heavier than the last time I lifted it. My head is reeling. Why would Rossman set up a line of credit in a phony name and fly me all the way to Hannibal to have sex with his wife? And why would he let her give me a million dollars for the privilege? The whole thing is completely insane.

I lean my head back in the limo and say, “I never caught your name.”

“Pete and Jinny call me Rudy.”

“Why would Rossman let me have sex with his wife?”

“That’s their business.”

“Fine, don’t tell me. I already know.”

He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner, like a teenage girl being lectured by her father. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“Somehow you guys turned Jinny Kidwell into a mega star. She’s paying you back by granting my wish.”

He laughs. It starts as a chuckle, but keeps building. It isn’t a fake laugh. Finally he says, “Pete said that?”

“Jinny told me,” I say, indignantly.

“Yeah? Well, she lied.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What, two hours in the sack, you think you know her character?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Chachi, but she’s an actress, remember?”

“If Jinny lied, then what’s the real wish you granted her?”

“Maybe she put fucking you at the top of her list.”

“Right. Look, I’m serious. What was Jinny’s wish?”

“It’s not my job to tell you.”

“And just what is your job, Rudy?”

His eyebrows arch, but his voice remains even. “Collecting payments.”

“Payments for what?”

“The wishes you get.”

I’m standing in Louis Challa’s restaurant parking lot, leaning into a limo, talking to a guy who is as far from a fairy godmother as a choirboy is to a congressman. There are people milling about the parking lot, so I straighten up and look around to make sure no one can hear our absurd conversation.

I lean my head back in the car and ask Rudy, “What did you do to her?”

“Who?”

“Jinny. To make her have sex with me.”

“It’s not like you think. I don’t force people to do a certain thing.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“You’re telling me Jinny didn’t have to sleep with me? She chose to?”

“Yeah, more like that. See, I give people two choices, sometimes three. We try to be accommodating.”

“And of all the choices you gave Jinny, having sex with me was the least objectionable?”

He made a gun out of his thumb and index finger, pointed at me, and pretended to shoot.

“So she’s paid up?” I say.

“Her payment has four parts.”

“Sleeping with me was one, right? She paid me a million dollars, that’s two. What are the other two?”

“That’s between her and us.”

“She’s rich, so the money was no big deal. Sleeping with me probably wasn’t that huge of a sacrifice…”

“Says you. But remember, her husband had to sit in the car and wait while she had sex with you. Can you imagine how hard that must have been for him?”

No. I couldn’t imagine it. Didn’t want to, didn’t try to imagine it.

“So that was her third thing?”

“No. That was one of his things.”

“Holy shit!”

“Exactly.”

“Am I involved in her other repayments?”

He shrugs.

“When will you tell me? After I help you bury the body?”

Rudy gestures at the open air around me. “I wouldn’t speak so loud, if I were you.”

I look around again, but no one is within hearing distance.

“Are you riding home with me?”

“No. Perkins will drop me off before picking you guys up for dinner.”

“How do you know I won’t drive straight to the cops?”

“It wouldn’t be prudent.”

“Why’s that?”

“There’s a dead body in your trunk.”

 

Chapter 20

 

I look at my car.