night she went missing.â
âI donât know anything about that,â he said. He was pissed now. I could tell by the way he tilted his head, set his jaw, avoided looking at me.
âWell, some things never change,â I remarked.
âIf you could excuse us for a moment, Elena, I need to have a word with my friend.â
He put a hand on Barbaroâs shoulder, ready to draw him aside.
âGetting your stories straight?â I asked sweetly. Stupid of me, but there it was. Sometimes I canât help myself.
Barbaro seemed bemused but content to watch the fireworks, his gaze bouncing back and forth between us as if he were watching a tennis match.
Walker took a moment to compose himself, breathing in, breathing out. He was very aware of the two couples that had just come upstairs from the restaurant and stood talking not ten feet away.
âI donât need a story,â he said quietly, stepping a little closer. I didnât retreat. I wouldnât. I looked him in the eyes, knowing that would make him uncomfortable.
âYou donât think so? An unconscious alibi witness?â I shook my head. âNot good, Bennett. Although at least he canât dispute your version of events.â
âElena, I understand that youâre upset,â he said. âBut I didnât have anything to do with that girlâs death, and I resent you implying otherwise, especially considering other people can hear you.â
I actually laughed. âOh, my, what would the neighbors think? Canât have me tarnishing your sterling reputation. You are just un-fucking-believable,â I said, lowering my voice.
âTwenty years and you still hate me.â
âThere is no statute of limitations for what you did, Bennett. Not with me.â
âDespite what you choose to believe, I was exonerated.â
âWhat an interesting reinvention of history.â
âIâm not having this conversation with you, Elena. Not here, not now.â
âWell, when you find you have room on your dance card, do pencil me in. Thereâs just nothing like reliving old times,â I said sarcastically.
I slid my gaze away from him to Barbaro. âNow, if you gentlemen will excuse me. Itâs been a very bad, very long day. Iâll see myself out.â
I walked away and out the door, past the valet stand. I had parked in the lower lot. A Glock 9mm lived in a secret panel in the driverâs door of my car. I couldnât take the risk of the gun falling into the hands of a minimum-wage sixteen-year-old bored with waiting on rich people.
âElena!â
Barbaro. He jogged to catch up with me. But when he did, he didnât seem to know what to say. He had the expression of someone who had come in on the middle of a conversation.
âIâm afraid I donât understand what just happened.â
âIâm sure your good friend will fill you in,â I said. âA word to the wise, though: Donât invest too heavily in giving him an alibi. If I find out he had something to do with Irinaâs murder, Iâll make very certain that he pays for it, and I wonât care who gets in my way.â
âThatâs crazy! Bennett is a good friend.â
âHow long have you known him?â
âSeveral years. He would never have anything to do with harming a woman.â
âReally? Why not? Because heâs handsome? Because heâs charming? Because heâs rich?â I asked. âFor such a worldly man, Mr. Barbaro, you are terribly naive. When you go back in there and sit down to have a drink with your pal, ask him if the name Maria Nevin means anything to him.
âAnd whatever he tells you, know this: Bennett Walker is a liar and a rapist. I know, because I was his alibi once too.â
He didnât know what to say to that and wisely chose to say nothing at all.
I turned to open my car door. Barbaro put a hand on my
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