Getaway Read Online Free PDF Page A

table?”
    “I … I’m looking for … There’s a group that meets here?”
    The waiter, a young man tanned as dark as strong coffee, gestured at the long table she’d already noted.
    She took a tentative step forward, toward the table. Stopped.
    This is silly, she thought. Just get it over with.
    “Here for the board meeting?”
    The man who spoke was hollow-cheeked thin, with a white-stubbled beard. He wore a Clash T-shirt, collarbones protruding above where the neck had been cut out. A blurred tattoo ran down his shoulder, below the ripped-off sleeves.
    “I’m … a friend of Daniel’s. Michelle.”
    He might have been in his sixties, but he looked like he’d lived hard. “I’m Charlie.” He smiled, revealing yellow, channeled teeth, an obvious hole where a tooth should have been and a bridge wasn’t. “Danny’s coming tonight?”
    “I’m not sure I …” She felt herself flush. “He got hurt last night, and I was wondering if …”
    “Danny got hurt?” He sounded concerned.
    “Is he okay?” a blond woman sitting across from him asked.
    “I think so,” Michelle said, and then Charlie patted the empty chair next to him.
    “Sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to make you just stand there. You want something to drink?”
    She sat. He seemed nice. Harmless at least. And he knew Daniel.
    “Thanks. Yes, I would.”
    “I wouldn’t have the margies here,” he confided. “They use Sprite.”
    “Have the piña colada,” the blond woman said. “Two for one during happy hour.” She was large, on the far side of middle age, the blond an obvious dye job, wearing a Hawaiian shirt patterned with orange and white hibiscuses.
    “Piña colada, I guess.”
    “I’m Vicky.”
    Her smile, unlike Charlie’s, showed gleaming white teeth.
    “Smoke?” Charlie asked.
    “No, thank you.” Not surprising that he smoked. She could smell the cigarettes on him, layer upon layer of smoke on his T-shirt and shorts that no amount of washing would vanquish, on his index finger and thumb as well, browned and baked by burning tobacco.
    Their drinks arrived, Michelle’s piña coladas coming in two large plastic cups. She sipped one. The rum cut through the sugar with a tang of kerosene.
    “What happened to Danny?” Charlie asked.
    “It was a robbery.”
    “Oh, my God,” Vicky said with a gasp. “That’s terrible!”
    “He’s okay,” Michelle said quickly. The more Vicky reacted, the less she wanted to talk about it. “But I have some of his things.”
    Both Charlie and Vicky had Daniel’s cell number, but no landline. No address.
    “You know who I bet does?” Vicky said suddenly. “Gary. He told me he was stopping by tonight, and if he doesn’t, I can call him.”
    “Great,” Michelle said. Maybe she’d get her phone back. That would make the evening worth it.
    “Oh, Gary. He’s delightful,” Charlie muttered.
    Vicky grabbed her wadded-up napkin and tossed it at him. “Now, come on,” she said. “Gary’s … a good person. He really likes to help people.”
    “He’s not my sort,” Charlie said in an exaggerated whisper. “He golfs .”
    Michelle smiled, for a moment forgetting that she didn’t want to be here.
    She’d waited for almost an hour, listening to the blur of small talk around her and sipping her piña colada, when Vicky said, “Oh, here’s Gary.” She waved in the direction of a man who’d just come in. He wore a neat, expensive Lacoste shirt and khaki shorts, Ray-Bans pushed up onto his forehead.
    “Well, hey there, Vicky,” Gary said. He made his way up to the table, next to Michelle, and gave her a long, thorough look. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
    Michelle wasn’t sure how old he was. He had a face that seemed out of balance, his cheeks and lips plump like a baby’s, the knowing eyes above peering out from wrinkled, puffy lids, all framed by blond curls.
    “Michelle.”
    He took her hand, gave it a little squeeze. “Can I get you a drink, Michelle?