Read Online Dirty Fire by Earl Merkel - Free Book Online Page B

Trombetta appeared at the doorway. Had I been thinking clearly, I might have been puzzled at the mix of emotions that crossed her face.
    “Hey, Davey,” she said softly. “Chaz, let him breathe.” She started to step outside, but her husband waved her back.
    “I want to show him the roses, baby,” he said to her. “How about you bring us a couple of ‘Rocks, okay?”
    He led me around the side of the house through an arched gateway in the cast-iron fencing. The backyard looked like a spread in House Beautiful , with flagstone pathways winding around shade trees just starting to fill with leaves. Beds of early-blooming perennials bordered an inlaid-brick patio, and a small, screened gazebo stood guard near the rear property line. It all looked very beautiful, and very expensive.
    “You’ve done some work since the last time I was over,” I nodded.
    “Well, you know,” Chaz said, a studied nonchalance in his voice. “With Terese off at Notre Dame, we got more time than we know what to do with. So Junie and I, we decided to finally fix up the place the way we always wanted.”
    He stopped at a carefully constructed trellis as tall as man, a support for the fan of stems that waved gracefully in the light air. It was still early in the season, but already tight knobs of rose buds formed blood-red drops against the deep green of the thorned tendrils.
    “Remember these beauties?” he asked, cupping one branch with a surprisingly gentle touch. “They’re going to have a good summer this year.”
    He looked toward the house and cupped his hands around his mouth.
    “Hey, Junie !” he shouted, and his voice was unexpectedly harsh. “J.D. needs his drink!”
    It was out of character; it surprised me. Then Trombetta turned back, and I realized my old partner had been avoiding my eyes.
    Chaz finished his Rolling Rock with an almost greedy passion, tilting the bottle further and further back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. It was an impressive display; I had forgotten Trombetta’s startling ability to consume, and the speed at which he did so.
    Chaz lowered the now-empty bottle and noticed the expression on my face.
    “Had half a bottle spill, once,” he said gruffly. “Swore I’d never take that chance again.”
    As if the act had steeled him in some way, he studied my face for several moments. His own was expressionless, his eyes wary. Then, in a soft underhand motion, he lobbed the drained longneck onto the neatly trimmed grass near the patio.
    “So—haven’t seen you around all that much, old buddy,” Chaz said finally. “Come to think of it, haven’t seen you at all for—what, three months? This is the first time you’ve looked me up.” He shook his head, mock-sadly. “I’m hurt, Davey. Deeply hurt. Anything new with you?”
    “Ellen and I are still divorced,” I said. “Looks like we may make it a success this time.”
    He nodded, suddenly serious. “Junie ran into her a while back. You two still talk?”
    “Hard not to. Mainly about money.”
    “Government still on your back?” He glanced at me sidelong, read the expression there and nodded. “If you need some cash, Junie and I could probably—”
    “Thanks,” I interrupted, “but no thanks.”
    We walked in silence for several paces.
    “I’ve missed you, J.D.,” he said. Almost against his will, his face lit up in memory. “Hey, remember the time you tried to shut down Bobby Calderon’s action? Ballsy move, man, walking in to bust the guy right in the middle of the United Way awards luncheon.”
    He grinned at me. “Refresh my memory. What’d the judge call it when he threw out the arrest?”
    “Poor judgment,” I said, and smiled. “He might have also said something about grandstanding. Didn’t mean he was right to let Calderon go.”
    Chaz was looking away when he replied.
    “Well, what the hell anyway?” he said. “Calderon skated, sure. Screw ‘im. He wasn’t laughing for long.”
    A week after the arrest was tossed,