Page 77 of Kill For Me Kill For You
There was a Starbucks up ahead with its door open. As she passed, she smelled the coffee. It might be nice to walk back to the apartment while sipping a coffee. She stopped, went inside. There wasn’t much of a line, but there seemed to be a lot of people scattered around the serving area, just waiting. The servers were slow. She ordered a drink and moved along to the end of the counter, then stood to one side with her back against the wall. The man who ordered after her came and stood beside her.
Just an ordinary guy. Waiting for his coffee.
No problem standing beside him. No fear. Ruth felt tears welling.
‘Grande skinny latte for Ruth?’ said a voice.
She took the coffee, thanked the barista, and quickly left the store. The coffee tasted good as she walked back to the apartment, passing men, women and children on the street. No panic attacks. The wind in her hair and on her skin was exquisite.
That latte was the best she’d ever tasted.
She got back to the apartment with a lightness in her step. Something like her old self. She closed the apartment door quietly, moved through the lounge to the kitchen.
The TV was still on, but there was no Scott. She thought he might be in the bathroom. Ruth put the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and listened to the toilet flush down the hallway. The bathroom door opened, and she heard Scott’s footsteps on the solid wood floor as he moved through the living room, toward the kitchen.
A news report on New York was playing out. A man had been attacked in his own home last night, and there had been a number of stabbings, but then they moved on to the main story.
A banner headline ran across the bottom of the screen.
PATRICK TRAVERS MURDERED IN NY HOTEL ROOM.
Scott came in, his hair still wet from the shower and wearing fresh clothes. The channel flashed up a picture of Patrick Travers, and all the oxygen left Ruth’s body. Seeing his face chilled her flesh. And yet it didn’t have the same power. He was dead, and he could never hurt her again.
The news anchor began to read more on the story.
‘We can confirm that the individual found murdered in his room at the Paramount Hotel last night has been identified as Patrick Travers. The forty-three-year-old was the close campaign advisor to Mayor Anthony Toscano. We understand the mayor’s office is preparing a statement and we’ll bring that to you when we have it. Police are treating the incident as a homicide, and they’ve issued an appeal for witnesses. Anyone who was in the hotel last night who might have seen something should contact NYPD immediately. The news of Mr. Travers’s murder is the latest in a long line of incidents that have plagued Anthony Toscano’s re-election bid. Viewers may recall that two weeks agoThe New York Timesrevealed that Mayor Toscano was under investigation for awarding lucrative city contracts to businesses allegedly linked to organized crime, and, in particular, businesses owned wholly or partially by Jimmy ‘the Hat’ Fellini. FollowingThe New York Timespiece, Mayor Toscano issued a statement denying any personal relationship with the Fellini family. A few days after that statement of denial, these pictures emerged on social media . . .’
The screen changed. The anchor was replaced by a photograph of three men at a beach bar. Each holding a drink, they were wearing tees and shorts. Two of them wore necklaces of flowers. One of them was Travers. More photos. The same three men, at night under a palm tree, the ocean behind them.
The image shifted back to the news anchor, with an over-the-shoulder-image in the corner of the screen, Patrick Travers, arm in arm with the mayor and another man. This time they were on the beach.
‘These images were taken at an exclusive resort in Hawaii where Patrick Travers, Mayor Toscano and Jimmy Fellini were pictured socializing together . . .’
Scott said, ‘The police will think Travers’s murder was a mob hit. They won’t come looking for us. Jesus, it’s going to be all right, Ruth. Everything is going to be okay.’
The news anchor continued.
‘The mayor issued the denial on November eighth of this year, saying he had no relationship with Fellini, but these pictures, which emerged subsequently, contradict that statement. The photographs, which we have authenticated, clearly depict Mr. Fellini entertaining the mayor and Mr. Travers at a private resort during their week-long stay, this last picture taken the night before Mr. Travers and Mayor Toscano flew home from Hawaii on September fifteenth of this year . . .’
Ruth’s coffee cup slipped through her fingers, hit the floor and splashed all over her shoes.
When she had been attacked in her home on September fourteenth, Travers was not in New York. He was in Hawaii with the mayor and a mob boss.
She’d pointed out the wrong man. Scott had murdered aninnocentman.
Ruth felt Scott’s strong hands taking hold of her arms.
42
Scott
He spun Ruth around, his guts churning, a hollow feeling in his chest, as if he’d been punched hard in the solar plexus, and he couldn’t breathe.
There was fear and shock in her eyes.
He could feel her body trembling beneath his fingers. Tears already forming over her eyes. Her mouth opened, but no words came. Then, as if something was bubbling up inside her, something she couldn’t control, something toxic, he let go and took a step back.
Not fast enough. She pushed him away, hard, as she bent double from a scream rushing out of her. The scream was a single word that emerged with such violence that he covered his ears. It was a sound he never wanted to hear again. Within it was loss, yearning and pain. Her gaze fluttered around the room fearfully. Scott knew she could no longer see him. Her mind had gone elsewhere and still she screamed . . .
