Riversong Read Online Free PDF Page A

Park.”
    She heard herself say, “No,” like it came from someone else. “Dan doesn't even have a gun.” She wasn't sure if she said the words or if they were inside her own head.
    The older one rested his hand on her arm. “We're very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Johnson.”
    The room tilted and her knees buckled. The fuzzy policeman reached to steady her, his thick eyebrows knitted together in concern, his mouth moving, but the whirr between her ears drowned the words. She staggered to the potted plant by the glass doors and heaved three, four, five times, until her stomach cramped and she gulped air, unable to stand upright. Her eyes focused on the policeman's black shiny shoes. His hand was on her back. His speech sounded like gibberish down a deep tunnel. The younger officer guided her to a chair. She looked past him to Paula, who stood slumped against the reception desk, hands clasped and her face white and stricken. Lee had whispered, “Call Linus.”
    Two days later, Linus held her hand as they walked towards the lobby of her condominium complex. They had come from the funeral home, where Linus made the arrangements while Lee stared helplessly at her hands that seemed to have lost all their blood.
    Afterwards she slumped against Linus's sturdy frame as they rode the elevator up to her condominium unit. There was a man lurking near her front door, dressed in tan pants, a white button-down shirt and tennis shoes. He leaned against the wall, ankles crossed, holding a newspaper in his right hand. His index and middle fingers were stained with what Lee recognized as nicotine and tobacco smoke. Her mother's fingers had been the same.
    “Can we help you,” Linus asked, tucking Lee's arm under his own.
    The man approached them, favoring his right leg with a slight limp. “I work for Gaspare DeAngelo. You owe my boss some money.” She got a whiff of musk aftershave mixed with cigarette smoke and garlic.
    He scowled at Lee's blank look. “Don't play dumb with me, lady. Y'know, Mr. DeAngelo, the guy who gave you a million bucks last year to keep your little business going while Danny boy worked out these, whad'ya call ‘em, bugs, yeah, bugs in the software.” He coughed and his lips parted, showing teeth stained the same brown of chewing tobacco she remembered from the men who stood on the sidewalk outside of her mother's grocery store job when she was a child.
    “I know we have an investor but I don't know the terms of the deal. Dan handled it,” said Lee.
    “I'm sure you know the terms better than I do, lady. But maybe you're a little stressed, so I'll review the highlights for you. Listen close. Mr. DeAngelo gives you and Danny a million bucks at 25% a year, payable by February 21 st. Otherwise Mr. D. takes the company, if he wants it. February 21st was yesterday, but Mr. D. starts thinking, Danny's brain is the company and now it's splattered all over his fancy car, so now Mr. D's thinking he just wants his money.”
    Lee heard what he said, but her mind seemed incapable of understanding.
    Linus took a step forward. “Let me understand this. Are you threatening her?”
    The man kept his eyes on Lee. “Very good. At least your, uh, friend is starting to catch on.”
    She stared at him. “Even if what you say is true, I don't have a million and a quarter to give you.”
    “My boss said to give you a few weeks.” He gave her a business card with his name, Von Marshal, and a phone number printed in black and white. “You call me to make the arrangements. My boss isn't someone who likes to be played. People who don't understand that have a way of, uh, not showing up at work one day, y'know what I mean?”
    Thirty minutes later, Lee sat shaking in front of her gas fireplace. Linus brought her a heavy wool sweater and they stared at one another for a long moment, too shocked to think of anything to say. After a few minutes, Linus got up and went into the kitchen. Lee heard him rummaging through cupboards and then