Episode 29.2

He put his ear against the wood, but couldn't hear any sound from inside the small building. Trying not to alarm anyone who might be inside the club, he rapped lightly with his knuckles and put his ear against the door again. Nothing.

-Hello! Anyone there? He — he asked, raising his voice slightly and hitting harder. But nobody answered.

He reached into his bag and pulled out his black leather case with the lock pick set. A branch snapped behind him and the bag slipped off his shoulder.

-Everything is alright? Noreen asked.

Joey turned quickly and studied the trees and bushes that obscured the concrete path. There was nothing there. At least nothing she could see. Another branch snapped behind a thick hibiscus. Joey stood on her toes as he craned his neck, trying to see something. But the bushes were too tall. She reached over and parted the lower branches, jumped over the chain that bordered the path, and crouched through the small copse.

"Joey, is everything okay?" Noreen repeated.

Joey slipped silently under a branch and continued toward the bushes from which the noises of breaking branches had come. On the other side there were light thumps on the ground. Someone was impatient. Lowering his head to the leaf-covered ground, Joey tried to get a better view of the place, but the undergrowth was too thick. There was only one way to find out what was going on.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a shiny silver revolver. A little thirty-eight five shot. Her father's revolver. On three, Joey counted to himself as she slid her finger on the trigger. Her legs bent slightly, preparing for the next step. One two...

Sprinting forward, she leaped to the other side of the bushes and aimed the gun at the source of the noises, a white heron flapping its great wings. When Joey appeared on the scene, the bird took flight into the sky, leaving Joey all alone again.

"What was that?" Joey, what happened? Noreen asked through her headset.

Joey didn't answer, put the small revolver back in her bag, and headed back up the concrete driveway that led to the club.

"Excuse me, ma'am..." said a male voice behind him.

Joey, caught off guard, turned quickly to see a young man with bleached blond hair.

"Sorry to bother you," Charlie said, putting a hand over the cut on his lip. But could I borrow your club key? My grandmother took ours to the apartment.

Charlie looked at the redhead and knew something was up. Anyone would say that I ask him for the key to the club every day, he thought.

-What do you want? the woman stammered.

"The key to the club," Charlie said, pointing to the old hideout he and Oliver had when they were kids. I just want to use the bathroom. Hoping to appear polite, and seeing that the woman was fifty years younger than the average age of the people who frequented that place, she added, "Unless, of course, you allow me to use the bathroom in her grandmother's apartment."

"Yes, she'd love to," the woman said, looking Charlie up and down. She smiled to herself and Charlie wondered if she was getting the "I love you" vibes. She's pretty, she told herself. Older, but with that red hair…somehow things evened out. Too bad it wasn't the right time or place.

"Are you also visiting your grandparents?" she asked.

"Actually, only my grandmother." "What apartment?"

"Three hundred and seventeen," Charlie said, pointing to the third-floor balcony that overlooked the pool. She didn't even look up. Clearly she's still interested in me, she thought...that is, until she discovered the blood covering the entire back of her hand. Shit. Her lip was still bleeding.

-Are you okay? she asked.

—Yes... of course... I'm perfectly fine.

-Insurance? she asked again, holding out her hand. Because I can...

"Yeah, I'm fine," he insisted, pulling away from her. Seeing that he had scared her, he forced himself to smile. It was a stupid gum accident. A poorly timed bite of a piece of strawberry gum; I think you've done irreparable damage to the inside of her lip. I still have hallucinations. Looking around her as if she were in a trance, he added, Breast? It's you?

Charlie continued to laugh, but the woman was deathly silent. That's all. The show is over.

"Listen, if you can lend me the key...

"Of course, of course," she said, reaching back into her bag. I have it right here…" She paused as if she was about to say something else. Let me find it for you... Charlie.

Shit.

Her hand came out of her bag holding a gun.

-What does she do? Charlie asked, holding up his hands.

"You don't have to be scared...it's okay," she said calmly. Her voice was pure velvet, and that was precisely why Charlie didn't believe a word of it.

"Is she with Gallo?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she promised.

"Yeah, sure... that seems to be the hot topic lately," he said, running the back of his hand over his still bleeding lip. He tried to think of something witty, but all he could see was the barrel of the revolver pointed at him.

"I swear, Charlie, I'm not in the Secret Service; I am not a representative of the law. All I care about is getting the money back and getting you both home safely.

Seeing the look of disbelief on her face, he held the gun steady, slipping his other hand into his bag and pulling out a white business card that he held up like a badge.

Narrowing his eyes, Charlie caught a glimpse of the word "Lawyer."

"I can't read what it says," she lied.

She didn't take the bait, she was too smart to let her get close.

With a flick of the wrist she tossed the card toward him. She fell at Charlie's feet, where she picked it up and read the rest of it. "Jo Ann Lemont-Attorney-Sheafe International." On the bottom right it said, "P.I. License #17-4127, Virginia."

Lawyer and private detective. As if one thing wasn't bad enough already.

"What are you, like Colombo or something?" she asked.

"Do you always use humor as a defense mechanism?"

As he watched her intently, Charlie knew that she was trying to delve into her thoughts. For that alone, the woman did not like him. Over her shoulder he could make out the calm pool area in the distance.

Charlie prayed that something would distract her, but they were too well hidden by the trees to attract anyone's attention.

"What do you want, miss?"

"Please," she said, "call me Joey.

Charlie sneered at the false quip.

"What do you want, Joey?" She," she asked through clenched teeth.

"I imagine you know Henry Lapidus..."

Charlie didn't bother to answer. "I'm just trying to do my job, Charlie. Now do you want to tell me where Oliver is hiding or do you want me to break down the club door?

Charlie had to make an enormous effort not to divert his gaze from her to the club. He was standing by the door.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You can keep telling yourself that, but I saw you leave the Duckworth house. I saw the blood on the carpet. And on your lip. The gun was still pointed at him, but his voice had returned to its velvety tone. I also know you don't have your medication, Charlie. Why don't you tell me once and for all what's really going on?... Maybe I can help you.

Charlie remained silent.

—You can believe me, I know it's not worth asking you to trust me. But I also know that it's not easy to throw your life away. I did the same thing when I dropped out of college; It took me three months to understand that I had to go back. Charlie had witnessed this scene many times. He was trying to make amends by finding common ground. Letting the thought mature, she added. I know what you're throwing overboard, Charlie. Forget work and other nonsense... you have your music... and your mother... and let's not forget your health...

"I get an idea."

"Then tell me what happened." Did it have something to do with Duckworth? Is that why you took the money?

"We're not thieves," Charlie said. Joey arched an eyebrow. All I'm saying is we didn't mean to hurt anyone.

"What about Shep?" she challenged him.

"Shep was my friend!" You can ask anyone, all the brats in the bank, I was the one who drank coffee with him, and talked about football with him, and laughed at the fact that he thought the front section of the paper was there just to stop the front section from of sports to get wet.

She studied his face, his hands, even his shoes. Charlie knew that she was searching for the truth…trying to decide if she was lying to him. But if she didn't believe him, they wouldn't be talking.

"Okay, Charlie, if you're innocent, then who killed him?" Joey finally asked.

He expected her to lower the gun, but Joey didn't. Charlie was still with his arms in the air.

"Why don't you try shifting your psych profiles to Gallo and DeSanctis?"

She didn't seem surprised when Charlie called out both names.

Do you have any proof of what you say? Joey asked.

-I know what I saw.

"But do you have proof?" she insisted.

It was exactly as Oliver had said: his word against the secret service.

"We're working on it," Charlie said.

"Charlie, you'll have to do better than that.

Charlie paused before speaking. She didn't want to say it, but… In fact, it was a lie. She did it.

"While you're at it, you should also take a look at Gillian.

Joey frowned.

"Gillian what?"

Charlie wasn't sure if she was bluffing or telling the truth, but he had nothing to lose now.

"Duckworth's daughter." Now her house is hers.

At that moment, a noise was heard on the other side of the club. Charlie guessed that she was someone's grandmother. So was Joey, who lowered his gun to make sure no one saw it. With one eye watching Charlie, he took a few steps back, trying to peer carefully around the other side of the building at one of its corners. But just as he stuck his head out there was a familiar click. Joey's hands went straight up into the clouds. He backed away from the corner of the building, and Charlie could finally see what was threatening Joey: a small black pistol resting against his temple.

"I swear I'll use it," Oliver promised, appearing around the corner of the club and letting himself be seen. Gallo's gun in hand, he pulled the trigger back. Now drop his weapon and step away from my brother.