Chapter 3 - The Date That Wasn't a Date
Masimo had eaten dinner in rooms worth more than Cora's entire apartment.
He had attended charity balls with senators.
He had stood beside actresses and diplomats.
He had sat across from women who wore enough jewelry to finance a small business.
But none of those dinners made him nervous.
The one with Cora did.
She chose a small Italian restaurant three blocks from the waterfront.
When Masimo arrived, she was already there.
She wore a dark blue dress.
Nothing extravagant.
No diamonds.
No designer bag.
Her hair was tied loosely behind her neck.
He stopped when he saw her.
She glanced up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You stared."
"I noticed."
She folded her hands.
"You look uncomfortable."
"I am."
"Good."
He sat.
"You planned this."
"Of course."
"Why?"
"I wanted to see how you behave when no one is afraid of you."
Masimo almost laughed.
"And?"
"You still look dangerous."
"That's disappointing."
The waiter approached.
Cora ordered pasta.
Masimo ordered steak.
She looked at his plate when it arrived.
"You eat too much."
"You eat too little."
"Maybe."
The silence that followed was strangely comfortable.
They talked about nothing.
Food.
Traffic.
The weather.
Milo's school.
Then Cora asked the question she'd been waiting to ask.
"What was your father really like?"
Masimo stared at his glass.
"Complicated."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
He took a breath.
"He was generous to people he loved. Cruel to people he didn't. He was good at business. Better at making enemies."
"And you?"
"I'm trying not to become him."
She looked at him.
"Are you?"
He thought about it.
"I don't know."
Cora nodded.
At the end of dinner, Masimo paid.
Outside, they walked beside the harbor.
The city reflected in the water.
Cora stopped at the railing.
"My father used to bring me here."
Masimo stood beside her.
"Did you love him?"
"More than anyone."
"What did he do?"
"He repaired things."
"Machines?"
"People."
Masimo looked at her.
"He wasn't a doctor."
"No."
She smiled.
"He knew how to make broken things work."
Masimo was quiet.
"So why do I think he was looking at something far more important than a diner fire?"
"Because he was."
She looked at him.
"My father found a shipment."
"What kind?"
"We don't know."
"What did he write?"
"Only one word."
"What word?"
"Maribel."
Masimo's eyes narrowed.
"Maribel."
"Yes."
"That means something."
"I was hoping you knew."
He shook his head.
But something about the word bothered him.
When they reached her building, he walked her upstairs.
She unlocked the door.
Milo was asleep on the sofa.
Cora smiled.
"He's supposed to be in bed."
Masimo looked at the boy.
"Asthma?"
"Yes."
"How bad?"
"Manageable."
He noticed the medicine bottles.
"Those are expensive."
"I know."
"I can help."
"No."
"Cora."
"No."
He looked at her.
"I don't accept charity."
"It's not charity."
"What is it?"
Masimo thought for a moment.
"A benefit of dating your boss."
She rolled her eyes.
"You are not charming."
"I wasn't trying."
He smiled.
Milo stirred.
His eyes opened.
He saw Masimo.
Then looked at Cora.
"Who's that?"
She hesitated.
"My boss."
Milo studied Masimo seriously.
Then he whispered,
"He's sad."
Masimo froze.
Cora smiled.
"Milo doesn't speak much."
"He just spoke."
"Sometimes."
Milo sat up.
He looked at Masimo.
"Does your heart hurt?"
Masimo stared at the boy.
"Sometimes."
Milo nodded as though that answer made perfect sense.
Then he went back to sleep.
Cora lowered her voice.
"You should go."
Masimo nodded.
At the door, he turned.
"Cora."
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow, bring the ledger."
"Why?"
"Because I have someone who can identify that word."
"Who?"
"My father's old accountant."
She looked startled.
"I thought everyone who worked for your father disappeared."
"Most did."
He opened the door.
"One didn't."
"Why?"
Masimo looked over his shoulder.
"Because my father didn't know he was alive."
The door closed.
Cora stood in the hallway for several seconds.
Then she heard a noise.
The fire escape window in Milo's room had opened.
She rushed inside.
The window was empty.
But on the sill sat a white envelope.
Inside was a single line.
Stop searching for Arbor Street.
Underneath was a second line.
Or the boy dies next.
Cora's hands began shaking.
She called Masimo.
He answered on the first ring.
"Cora?"
She couldn't speak.
"Cora."
"They know about Milo."
Masimo was already moving.
"Lock the door."
"I did."
"Stay inside."
"Masimo—"
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
She hung up.
But across the street, a man lowered binoculars.
He spoke into his phone.
"She's with him."
A voice answered.
"And the boy?"
"Alive."
"Good."
"Do we take him?"
"No."
A pause.
"Not yet."
May you like
The voice became colder.
"First take the secretary."
