blurred image of the man leaning against the window with his back to her. She blinked and opened her eyes wider, as though she was swimming inside a glass bubble filled with water, fighting her way to the light at the surface.
“Lou, is that you?”
“It’s me, Sarah. Welcome back.”
He sat at the edge of her bed and held her hand. She closed her eyes again, held them shut, as though she was waiting for her mind to catch up with her senses. When she opened them, she could see him, his soft brown eyes, a day’s growth on his face.
“I’m still a little groggy.”
“It’s called a hangover.”
“I’m so ashamed of myself, Lou. God, what did I do?”
“You tried to kill yourself. Took a handful of sleeping pills.”
“I was scared. I didn’t see any other way out.”
“There’s always another way. Are you really that scared of Tommy Ahearn?”
“I told you about him?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember him following me into the diner.”
“You told me he worked for your husband. I figured there’s more to the story.”
“There is.”
“I’m listening.”
“My mouth is so dry, Lou. Would you mind getting me a cup of water?”
Lou filled a paper cup with water from the bathroom. He let the water run first, waited for it to get cold. He tested it with his finger and pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser. He looked at his face in the small mirror over the sink. He saw the same face he’d seen in the mirror at Charlie Melvyn’s barber shop, a childlike face, or so he thought. It was the face of a man who’d seen too much, more than any man should have to, and yet he still hadn’t grown up, not fully, not if growing up meant giving up all those adolescent dreams that persisted into adulthood, dreams of success, of happiness, of love. There were still things he believed in, kept him going, kept him in his mother’s house, in the old neighborhood, same as Charlie Melvyn. Even without the badge and the gun, it made him want to help Sarah Blackwell or whatever her name was.
“You were going to tell me about Tommy Ahearn.”
“You must think I’m crazy.”
“I think you’re in trouble. I think your daughter could be in more trouble than you. That’s why you need to tell me the truth. Richie Mazzino is dead, Sarah. They found his body in Richland Quarry. I can’t help if you won’t confide in me.”
“Oh god, Lou. I think I am going crazy. Did Tommy kill him?”
“I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt Mazzino was trying to protect your daughter from him.”
“He’s dangerous, Lou, more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“I’ve got a pretty good imagination. Try me.”
“One night, last year, these three guys show up at the house,ring the doorbell about eleven o’clock at night. They worked at one of Vince’s factories, at least they did until Tommy fired them. I heard he caught them stealing checks and found out they’d been cashing them at this check cashing place right around the corner from the factory. That night, they showed up pissed off and drunk, looking to get paid for their last week of work. Tommy went outside. I heard them arguing, yelling back and forth. I watched from the window. Tommy had a gun. He just shot them. Just like that, all of them, right where they stood. He backed up his truck and threw them in the back like they were trash and drove away. He came back about an hour later and got rid of their car, probably parked it on some street in the city.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I was too scared. I did ask him about it the next day. He laughed and said, ‘A few more dead Philly homeboys. No one’ll miss ’em.’ That’s all he had to say.”
“You didn’t wake up one morning and find Tommy Ahearn on your doorstep. What’s his story?”
“Tommy came around about three, four years ago. Vince had got a girl pregnant, a young girl, a long time ago, and paid her to stay away. He’d see her every once in a while, when he
“Lou, is that you?”
“It’s me, Sarah. Welcome back.”
He sat at the edge of her bed and held her hand. She closed her eyes again, held them shut, as though she was waiting for her mind to catch up with her senses. When she opened them, she could see him, his soft brown eyes, a day’s growth on his face.
“I’m still a little groggy.”
“It’s called a hangover.”
“I’m so ashamed of myself, Lou. God, what did I do?”
“You tried to kill yourself. Took a handful of sleeping pills.”
“I was scared. I didn’t see any other way out.”
“There’s always another way. Are you really that scared of Tommy Ahearn?”
“I told you about him?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember him following me into the diner.”
“You told me he worked for your husband. I figured there’s more to the story.”
“There is.”
“I’m listening.”
“My mouth is so dry, Lou. Would you mind getting me a cup of water?”
Lou filled a paper cup with water from the bathroom. He let the water run first, waited for it to get cold. He tested it with his finger and pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser. He looked at his face in the small mirror over the sink. He saw the same face he’d seen in the mirror at Charlie Melvyn’s barber shop, a childlike face, or so he thought. It was the face of a man who’d seen too much, more than any man should have to, and yet he still hadn’t grown up, not fully, not if growing up meant giving up all those adolescent dreams that persisted into adulthood, dreams of success, of happiness, of love. There were still things he believed in, kept him going, kept him in his mother’s house, in the old neighborhood, same as Charlie Melvyn. Even without the badge and the gun, it made him want to help Sarah Blackwell or whatever her name was.
“You were going to tell me about Tommy Ahearn.”
“You must think I’m crazy.”
“I think you’re in trouble. I think your daughter could be in more trouble than you. That’s why you need to tell me the truth. Richie Mazzino is dead, Sarah. They found his body in Richland Quarry. I can’t help if you won’t confide in me.”
“Oh god, Lou. I think I am going crazy. Did Tommy kill him?”
“I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt Mazzino was trying to protect your daughter from him.”
“He’s dangerous, Lou, more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“I’ve got a pretty good imagination. Try me.”
“One night, last year, these three guys show up at the house,ring the doorbell about eleven o’clock at night. They worked at one of Vince’s factories, at least they did until Tommy fired them. I heard he caught them stealing checks and found out they’d been cashing them at this check cashing place right around the corner from the factory. That night, they showed up pissed off and drunk, looking to get paid for their last week of work. Tommy went outside. I heard them arguing, yelling back and forth. I watched from the window. Tommy had a gun. He just shot them. Just like that, all of them, right where they stood. He backed up his truck and threw them in the back like they were trash and drove away. He came back about an hour later and got rid of their car, probably parked it on some street in the city.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I was too scared. I did ask him about it the next day. He laughed and said, ‘A few more dead Philly homeboys. No one’ll miss ’em.’ That’s all he had to say.”
“You didn’t wake up one morning and find Tommy Ahearn on your doorstep. What’s his story?”
“Tommy came around about three, four years ago. Vince had got a girl pregnant, a young girl, a long time ago, and paid her to stay away. He’d see her every once in a while, when he
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