“guy 7’oc talk patio in 5 – lucy m.”
i looked behind me, only to see a familiar face. i tried to gather my thoughts. i know this face.
“what’s wrong, is everything ok?” asked Jill.
“no… i mean, yes, bill’s ok.”
“let me see…” Jill tried to reach out to the bill and in a split-second; i grabbed it, stood up, and said,
“ok, erm, look, …” i fumbled, looking for the waiter’s nametag.
“matt,” he said, in a very odd manner.
“matt, i don’t think you should charge us for the crappy crab cakes.”
i shocked myself – i couldn’t believe a criminal lawyer could say such stupid cover-ups.
“ok, i’ll get my manager,” he said. and i caught that strange wink he sent my way.
“i’ll speak to him personally,” i said, firmly looking at Jill’s direction, and added,
“excuse me for a sec, i’ll be right back.”
“o-k, just hurry up, i’m running late.”
i followed matt to the patio. we passed by 3 men in black, all sipping evian. suits don’t hang out dry on evian. something’s gravely wrong.
within 20 steps, i found the ‘7 o’clock’ guy standing with yet another bottle of evian.
matt left us.
i could see him unbuttoning his vest and threw it into the pool as he walked away.
Mikhail pedrov. this was guy the whom i ‘set free’ many years ago. i was certain, that he should be behind bars for the murder of lucy martiabo, an 18 year-old girl who was found raped and murdered next to her parents with her head almost severed by an axe.
“what do you want from me that i haven’t given to you yet?” my body was shivering with intense anger and frustration.
“hey beautiful…” he reached out to touch my face, and before he could accomplish that, i have his arm twisted and his body ’embraced’.
the 3 MIBs move towards us.
mikhail gave a signal of dismiss.
“easy tiger, i just want to talk.”
i cut him loose and pushed him away. he’s now 2 meters away from me. his sly face and dirty teeth is all i can see, and lucy’s angelic face is all i can feel.
“shes still breathing as we talk.”
i paused – stunned. where could lucy be?
“your girl friend there, she’s an actress?”
“shut your mouth, and tell me where is lucy!”
i raised my voice, knowing i shouldn’t have.
“tell your friend i’m watching her. and oh, and you, too, kiddo.”
before i could say anything, he gave me the same cunning, bastard smile and turned way, walked off with his 3 dogs.
i stared, i froze, and i moved on.
“you’re back! let’s go. so did we have to pay for the crab cakes?”
“ok let’s go. i’m late.”
another day, another twist. another irony. my best friend. i dread and fear the worst, but what’s a lawyer’s life without a little drama and secrets?