Page 92 of Sapphire Storm

“You’re older, but yeah, I’ve seen your picture.”

Ethan nodded. “I’m in touch with some of the people Roman’sstaying with, and I wanted you to know that he’s okay. He might be—”

“He’s not okay.” Andy took a step out onto the porch. “Iwatched that interview. He’snotokay. That wasn’t him. I don’t knowwhat that woman’s doing, but she’s making him do something he doesn’t want todo. Ronnie’s never been interested in girls. Now he’s marrying one? Come on!”

“You’re right. But Idoknow how she’s making himdo it, so if I could come in…”

Turning his back, he gestured for Ethan to follow himinside. The entire place had the feel of a mancave, but its clutter wasorganized in neat piles, and the front room’s furniture, while sporting acrazed rainbow of mismatched colors, looked comfortable and worn. On shelvesright inside the front door, Ethan stopped cold at one of the framed pictures.

Lucy Russo—an older version of her with much shorterhair—smiling out at him from a black lacquer frame, a younger Andy leaning inclose to her, one giant arm curved around her shoulders. Behind them, aneon-splashed bowling lane extended into the near distance. Her eyes werebrown, but they had Roman’s size and emotional depth. Then came severalpictures of Roman as a teenager and a man close to the age he was now.

“Coffee?” Andy asked as he poured himself a cup.

“That would be great, thank you.”

Andy nodded and poured. “I might take some whiskey in mine,if you don’t mind. ’Cause you here at the crack of dawn, in the middle of allthis? That’s some fucked-up shit, if you’ll excuse my language.”

“So you’ve seen the file, I take it.”

“How’d you know there was a file?” Andy handed him asteaming mug, then indicated for him to take a seat at a breakfast table piledwith well-kept back issues of automotive magazines and a few copies ofFish& Game.

“Roman told me about it.” He took a seat, but Andy stayedstanding.

“Curiouser and curiouser.” Andy returned to the counter, bitoff what looked like half of a Pop-Tart, and chewed. “I told her to throw thedamn thing away, but she said she liked to go through it at least once a year.It reminded her not to be so damn naïve. About men, about the world.” Andystudied him. “She really loved him, you know. Thomas. Yourclient. Hebroke her heart.”

Ethan managed a small sip of coffee, even though he’d feltlike he’d been slapped. “I know this is weird,” he said, “but I’ve got a verystrange story to tell you. So perhaps I can give you the headline now in caseyou don’t want to listen to the rest.”

Andy gestured for him to continue.

“Diana Peyton knows you have a criminal record. If you givethat interview today, she’s going to use it to destroy you in the press.”

In an instant, the man who’d been poised to judge had beenbrought down to Ethan’s level.

He gazed out the window as he ate the rest of one Pop-Tart.Then he devoured the second one in several big bites quickened by a newanxiety.

“I did stupid shit with cars when I was a kid.” He swallowedhis last bite. “Other people’scars,” he added. “Whatever. I did mytime. I mean, I work with at-risk youth now, for Christ’s sake.”

“We all have a past,” Ethan said quietly. “What do you dotoday? For a living, I mean.”

The man sighed heavily. “I work on people’s cars.”

“Damn,” Ethan said. “That would be like if I went intomarriage counseling.”

When Andy’s eyes flashed to his, Ethan expected to see angerthere. Instead, the guy’s chest shook with laughter. “That’s pretty damnfunny,” he said once he caught his breath. “You’re funny.”

“Thank you.”

Andy tightened the fuzzy belt of his bathrobe and took aseat across from Ethan. “Tell your strange story. I want to hear every word.”

By the time Ethan was done, Andy’s jaw had gone slack, andhis hands were resting weakly against the base of his coffee mug. After whatfelt like an eternally long silence, he said, “The glider port story. The oneabout La Jolla. That was you he was talking about, wasn’t it?”

Ethan nodded.

“Only real part of that whole interview.”

“Cancel yours, Andy. If you do it, you’ll get hurt, andRoman doesn’t want that for you, I’m sure.”

He sighed and rested his hip against the kitchen counter. “Sohe’s just going to go through with it and do the wedding and it’ll be over? Imean that’ll be the last thing this psycho lady ever wants from him?”

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