Marjorie hesitated, but I watched as her resolve completely melted as she met Russo’s insistent gaze. The power that man had to make people do what he wanted was no joke. I watched her as she dipped down and let Russo feed her the whole mushroom cap.
“Mmm,” she said, nodding. “Mmmmmmm.” She elongated the moan of appreciation for Russo’s benefit. He flashed her a smile that made color bloom on her cheekbones.
“Now, you’re free to go,” Russo said with a little wave. She giggled and trotted off toward the kitchen. He watched her go.
“Sure you won’t try one now?”
“No,” I said firmly, watching Marjorie glance back over her shoulder. I felt put out, for sure, or maybe it was just the fact I wasdefinitely buzzed. That wine was hitting me like a freight train. Mental reminder: Don’t shotgun a glass of wine on an empty stomach.
“You jealous?” Russo asked me, and the question took me by surprise. Was I jealous? I didn’t think I was jealous. I was… annoyed. There was a difference. “You shouldn’t be jealous, kid. She’s not my type.”
She was young and pretty, so I thought she was everyone’s type.
“What’s your type, then?”
Russo sent me a sly smile. “You haven’t figured it out yet?” he asked me, his eyes glinting with a secret. “You. You’re my type.”
Seventeen
Online betting apps even began to take bets about which canceled person might be the next killed.
—Crime Hivepodcast
Marjorie came back with a full platter of food, which shocked me because—uh, when did we order again? I didn’t remember getting a menu, much less deciding on food. But I was feeling foggy and tipsy, my brain swimming in wine. Had I had one glass or two? Russo had been constantly filling it, so I realized it was impossible to say.
“Did you order for me?” I asked.
“Of course,” Russo said as Marjorie set down a crusted whitefish in front of me and a bloody bone-in rib eye in front of Russo.
I glanced at the fish. I would’ve preferred a steak, but I was having trouble mustering up enough focus to really care. My phone pinged. I glanced at the face. It was Peter Neufeld, Jared’s attorney.
Olga Duncan’s family confirmed it’s her necklace you found at the cabin. Please send it to me and I can get it run through a lab.
“Everything okay?” Russo asked.
I tucked my phone away.
“Yeah,” I said. I wanted to tell Russo about Olga Duncan, but my brain wasn’t working. I was having a hard time hanging on to my train of thought. I felt foggy and weird.
“Any idea where Spider-Man might be staying?” Russo asked, taking a mouthful of bloody steak.
“No clue,” I said, trying to focus on Russo. I was buzzed. Definitely buzzed. I took a bite of fish, wishing I had carbs on my plate that would help soak up some of the alcohol. The thin filet and the three sprigs of asparagus weren’t going to hack it. “Oscar is looking for him.”
“These small-town yahoos,” Russo said. “He probably doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.”
“Oscar knows what he’s doing,” I said. At least, I hoped he did.
We ate a few moments in silence, and I watched as Russo wolfed down most of his plate. He must’ve been hungry. Midway through my meal, I lost my appetite and began pushing the fish around. I was starting to feel lightheaded. I dropped my fork on the floor.
“You okay, kid?” Russo asked, concerned.
“Wine’s going to my head,” I said and bent down to get the fork. That was a mistake. The blood rushing to my temples made me see stars.
“Let’s get you home,” Russo said, and he signaled for the waitress.
Outside the restaurant, I stood in front of Russo in the mostly empty parking lot. Russo had paid for dinner. I’d thanked him, wondering again why the wine was hitting me so hard. Eating didn’t even help. Far from soaking up any alcohol, the meal only seemed to fuel the lightheadedness.
A lone streetlight lit the barren sidewalk, and behind us, the restaurant’s interior lights flicked off. It might just be eight thirty, but the staff had been waiting on us to leave, since we’d been the last customers in the restaurant. Most places closed by nine in the off-season. Our bellies were full, but Russo stared at me like he was still hungry.
