Benefit of the Doubt: A Novel (14 page)

McKenzie knew it was true. Men like Walter Jorgensen had never taken him seriously. Kept him begging for what amounted to table scraps. The legit types like Norgaard and Sawyer looked down their nose at him as if he were some small-time chump crook. No trust or respect from either side.

McKenzie ran his hand over the black briefcase in the passenger seat. His play on Lipinski had taken some brass balls, and now things were really looking up. Jorgensen couldn’t possibly get wind of this take. There’d be no split.

McKenzie shouted out in the car. “Who’s the punk now, Henry?”

This was McKenzie’s chance. He’d get ahead of this Lee character. He’d get an edge on Jorgensen and rewrite their business arrangement. And the Norgaards and Sawyers of the world?

McKenzie mashed the accelerator, and the needle jumped to ninety-five. Fuck ’em. They could think what they want. They didn’t have anything he needed anyway.

EIGHTEEN

Right on time,
Harlan thought.
Bitch, you’re gonna make this too easy.

Harlan sat on the bus bench and watched the Sawyer woman arrive at the coffeehouse. Every morning this week she had shown up around this same time and stayed at least an hour. Sometimes longer. Yesterday she had even gone upstairs to what Harlan figured must be the man’s apartment. It had been twenty minutes before the two of them came back down and the woman hurried off to her car.

Got yourself a little fuck buddy, hey, boy? Not sure how much her old man would approve. Either one of ’em.

He had to give the fella credit. The woman—now he knew her name was Alex—was worth the risk. Blond, Nordic, and built for pleasure the way Harlan saw it. She was the Midwestern dream girl. He’d love to have at it himself, but Harlan knew that wasn’t in the cards. This was all business. He sat on the bench and lit a Pall Mall and gave some thought to recent events. The Sawyer woman brought a whole different opportunity for a particular flavor of revenge. Harlan could see why people would assume such an occurrence must somehow be borne of divine providence. It was nearly too good to be consider coincidence.

He watched through the glass as Alex and Louis sat and talked together near the window. Louis was big in the shoulders and had some guns for biceps. Harlan didn’t doubt for a second he could kick the boy’s ass in a no-rules knife fight, but they’d definitely make a ruckus and that wouldn’t do. Harlan began to lay plans for the coming confrontation.

Before too long another familiar figure came into view.

Harlan thought back on the family scene in the front yard and spoke out loud. “If it ain’t Mr. Neighborhood Watch.”

NINETEEN

“Hey, Louis, how’s it going?” Alex walked into the store with comfortable familiarity and was immediately pleased with what she found. She had come by Books and Java every morning for a week, and today was the first time the store had been free of customers. Most days Louis stayed busy making specialty drinks or talking books with patrons. Business was definitely picking up. Part of her was happy for Louis, most of her, even, but she couldn’t deny there was some sense of reward that today she would get a few minutes of having Louis all to herself. The fact Ben still hadn’t come down to meet her for a cup of coffee and a little small talk was becoming less of an issue. He was supposed to drop by today, but Alex fully expected him to call and cancel or just not show up at all.

“Morning.” Louis’s face lit up. “Thanks for the help yesterday. I don’t think I was meant to live in the computer age. Believe it or not, in my previous life I had people who took care of that sort of thing for me.”

“You’re right. Between this passion you have for old books and your lack of computer skills, it’s like you weren’t meant for this century. You’re more of a nineteenth-century man, I think.” Alex walked up close enough to playfully pat Louis on the arm. “It’s called a defrag. Pretty simple, really. But now that I’ve seen your place, I’m going to insist you come over to the house and get some home cooking. What you call a kitchen is kind of scary.”

“I wouldn’t argue with you about that.” Louis walked away and disappeared into the office, then came out holding a small package. “Here. This is for you.”

Her heartbeat jumped with genuine surprise. “What’s this?”

Louis sounded both pleased and anxious. “Open it and you’ll see.”

Curious, Alex pulled at the edges of the deep red paper, exposing the dust jacket of a hardcover book. The scent of aged paper and print wafted up, and Alex inhaled deeply, savoring the smell. The cover image was of a woman standing on a grassy prairie, one hand to her brow and the other on her hip. The title
O Pioneers!
was bold across the top and the name Willa Cather ran along the bottom. Alex’s fingers trembled as she opened the book. She looked closely at the print on the opening page, stunned.

“Oh, my God. An original printing? Where did you find it?”

“Boxed up at an estate sale.” Louis’s voice was charged with excitement. “Along with about three hundred other books that I don’t think anyone has touched in fifty years.”

Alex opened the book and stared in silence at the clear black print. She remembered the old family reading room. Thoughts of sitting in her father’s lap. The fireplace snapping and popping, the smell of burning hickory in the air. A woman seated nearby knitting quietly and smiling. Classical music playing softly on an old-style record player. Her father’s rich voice reading the words; her mother looking on. Unconsciously, Alex began to speak out loud, “Mom was still alive the first time I heard this story. I couldn’t have been more than three years old…”

Alex pulled away from the memory and looked up at Louis, who was now looking down over her shoulder. He was close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Flustered, she turned to him and took one step back. She studied his face. “You’re telling me you found a 1913 first-edition Willa Cather at a garage sale?”

Louis laughed. “Not a garage sale, an estate sale. I bought a bunch of boxes, sight unseen, for a hundred bucks. Last night I started going through them. When I saw this … it was an amazing feeling. Like those people you hear about who discover a lost Rembrandt under a painting of dogs playing poker. Can you believe it?”

Alex didn’t understand. How could
Louis
make her feel this way? It was just a simple, thoughtful gift. How could it be that she suddenly felt this connected to someone?
Why,
she wondered,
do I feel this with him? Why him?

Alex closed the book and held it out to Louis. Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Thank you, but I can’t accept this.”

Louis looked dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? You have to take it.” He paused, then went on speaking more earnestly. “I was meant to find this book for you, Alex. You told me your father took your name from this book. There’s no coincidence here.”

Alex knew Louis was missing the point, but she wasn’t about to try and explain it to him. It wasn’t the book or even its value that concerned her. Not at all. Her fear was knowing that every time she held the book, every time she opened the pages, she would remember this moment. This moment when he got close enough it was like he had stepped inside her skin. Alex knew that the feeling inside her needed to be tucked away and forgotten. She couldn’t go through life reliving it over and over.

“Louis, you can’t just give away something like this,” Alex tried to laugh but came closer to crying. “You’re supposed to be
selling
books.”

Louis took hold of Alex by her wrists and pushed the book until his hands were inches from her breasts. Her breath got caught in her throat and she wondered,
Is he going to come closer? Is he going to kiss me? Please don’t. Please.

The look in his eyes reassured her that he would never do that to her. He would never make her choose. The tone of his voice conveyed a sense of trust she had rarely experienced. “Either you take it or I’ll return it. I won’t keep it and I am certainly not going to sell it. This book was meant for you.”

Alex’s eyes brimmed with tears. In an instant her heart turned and the closeness she felt to Louis was no longer a threat. It
was
a gift. That was all he wanted to offer her. He was her friend and he always would be. “I don’t know what to say. This is an amazing gift.”

His hands went to her shoulders for just a moment, then dropped away and he smiled, taking a step back. He jammed both of his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugged his shoulders. “Exactly. It’s a gift. Now just take it and be happy, for goodness sake.”

“I guess I’m a little early, huh?”

At first Alex remained stuck in the moment, then she turned to see Ben standing in the doorway, his face drawn into a scowl. Not directed at her. Alex’s feet felt stuck to the floor, and it seemed like it took forever before she went to greet her husband. She kissed him on the cheek and felt his body go stiff.

“Hey,” she said uneasily, responding to his tension. “Wow. You made it.”

“Sure did.” Ben’s eyes stayed on Louis.

Alex began to recover. “Good. Come in. I want you to meet Louis.”

Louis stepped forward. “Hey, Ben. Nice to finally meet you.” He stuck his hand out and Ben just looked at it for several seconds before grasping it. Their handshake was brusque and awkward. Alex thought she saw Louis flinch and wondered how hard Ben was gripping his hand.

She intervened. “Look at this, Ben. Louis found it at a garage—I mean an estate sale. This is the book I’ve told you about. The one my dad loved. Remember?”

Ben, still staring at Louis, said, “Not really.”

Alex looked at her husband and wordlessly communicated in a way reserved for long-married couples.
Knock it off and I’ll explain everything later.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Louis broke it, speaking in a voice slightly higher pitched than usual.

“Let me get you guys some coffee. The usual for you, Alex, and what can I get for you, Ben?”

“My
usual
would be black coffee.”

Louis headed for the counter and the coffee machines. Alex pulled Ben to a table and tried to smooth over their rough start. “Isn’t this place great? I’m glad you could finally get here.”

“You sure? Because it felt like I walked in on something.” Ben’s tone was challenging and Alex was thrown off.

“What are you talking about?”

Ben ignored her question and came at her from another direction. “How much do you have to hang around here to have a usual?”

“Ben, stop.” She reached out to him. “He gave me a gift because I fixed his computer yesterday. That’s all.”

“What computer?” Ben glanced around the small store, clearly looking for a computer and not seeing one.

“In his apartment upstairs,” Alex said, without thinking of how her husband might react. She was startled when color rose in his cheeks.

“What the hell,” he said angrily. “You’ve been to his—”

Louis returned, excited to be showing his business off to a new customer. “Here you go. Ben, I brought you a biscotto. It’s made with organic almonds. Let me know what you think.”

Alex laughed. “I can tell you already. Ben thinks biscotto is Italian for dog biscuit.”

“In that case, don’t tell me.”

Ben spoke flatly, looking at his wife. “Make mine to go. I need to get back to the office.”

“Uh, sure,” Louis said in an uncertain tone; Alex realized he had clued in on the tension between her and Ben. “Just give me a second.”

Alex waited until Louis was out of earshot before pleading with Ben. “What are you doing? Sit with me for five minutes. Please.”

“Not now.” Ben’s voice was tense. “You stay, though. This is your thing, not mine. By the way, I might be late for dinner. You and Jake should plan on eating without me.”

She reached across the table, trying to touch his hand, but Ben stood up as Louis returned. Alex pulled her hand back into her lap.

“Here you go, Ben. It was nice to meet you,” Louis said, trying to save the moment. “Come back when you can stay a while.”

Ben looked hard at the other man and said nothing. As angry as he might be, Alex knew her husband was dying inside. She was ready to forget having a friendship with Louis. At that moment, she’d do anything to feel her husband’s affection.

Alex started to stand, saying to Ben, “I’ll walk out with you.”

“No. Don’t get up.” He looked at her in a way that made Alex feel like a stranger to him. “Like I said, I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait up.”

Louis said, placating, “Look, Ben. I think you somehow got the wrong idea about Alex and me. It’s my fault; I’m sorry. But you need to know that—”

Ben locked eyes with Louis and cut him off. “Anything I need to know, I’ll figure out for myself. Okay by you?”

Alex saw the pain in Ben’s eyes. Ignoring his order, she followed him out the door. On the deserted sidewalk, she laid a hand on his arm, stopping him, then hugged him close and whispered in his ear.

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing going on between Louis and me, I swear. And I don’t care how late you are, I’m waiting up.”

She kissed him on the neck and wished he would relax into her embrace, but after a moment Ben pulled away and left without looking back. Alex stood and watched him go.

TWENTY

Tia Suarez stopped her ’64 GTO convertible in front of the Sawyers’ house, where Ben and a younger version of the man were exchanging pop flies on the lawn. She waved and called out a friendly hello. The boy’s gaze locked on the car as he walked to the curb.

“I like your car.”

“Then you’ve got good taste,” Tia said. “It’s a GTO, but some people call ’em Goats. This one’s almost fifty years old. Cars were built to get up and go back then.”

The boy stared intently. “Cool.”

Ben glanced over his shoulder at the house as he walked up, and Tia thought he seemed a bit nervous. “Hey, Tia. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Sarge. Sorry for just dropping in, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.”

A screen door screeched, and Tia looked up to see a woman coming out onto the porch of the Sawyer home. She assumed this was Ben’s wife, Alex. The woman’s light blond hair was pulled back, and she was dressed casually in jeans and a man’s button-down white cotton shirt tied off in a knot just above her waist. The woman eyed Tia with a mix of friendly curiosity and what struck Tia as mild surprise. Tia had heard talk that Ben’s wife was a looker, and this woman was certainly that. Her skin nearly glowed; her cobalt eyes were piercing even at this distance. As Alex approached the group at the curb, her face warmed with an inviting smile. Barefoot, with her ponytail bouncing slightly and her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, she looked like she had walked out of a photo shoot for Liz Claiborne.