“You know, any other store owner would have asked a lot more questions by now,” said Esther. “You zipping through here like somebody stole something from you. But I don’t do anything the way I’m supposed to and it’s served me well so far. Learned that rule living under the Soviets. I go by what my gut tells me,” she said, patting her belly. “I’m going to trust that you’d tell me what’s bothering you if I needed to know.”
Wallis stood quietly, considering for a moment telling the older woman what she knew, eager for someone to tell her it was all an unfortunate set of coincidences and conspiracies only happen in the movies. But she remembered what Stanley had said. What it was like for each new person that gets dragged into the story.
“Well,” said Esther, “the offer remains open.” She put an arm around Wallis, leading her back toward the winding halls made of books. “Take good care of Stanley. He’s a good egg. Yes, I know you came to meet him. I told you, I have a lot of practice watching and waiting. It’s a good survival tip,” she said, winking. “You’re questioning everything, that’s a good idea too. I’ll help you out with this little observation. Stanley is by nature a cynic, believes in very little. If something has scared him this badly, he has good, concrete reasons.”
They came to a turn in the hall near an old bathroom with small black and white tiles inlaid in the floor; small sections missing here and there exposing the concrete underneath.
“That’s odd,” said Esther, “he didn’t empty this one. Tsk, that Herman,” she said, before another idea seemed to grow inside of her. She looked up at Wallis with a stony expression, the lines deepening on her face. “Remember what I said, I trust you to tell me if there’s something I should know.”
Wallis kept her silence, too unsure to know what to do. Never say anything, never ask anything if you don’t already know the outcome. The first rule of being a good courtroom lawyer.
“Wait,” said Esther, tapping Wallis on the shoulder as she tried to leave. “At some point, you may be looking for a friendly ear. Don’t underestimate an old woman. I don’t make that offer to just anyone, but this is Richmond. We’re all somehow connected and once you can see which way a web spins, you know what you need to know. I’ve known Stanley since he was a boy coming in here for comic books. I knew Ray too,” she said, a look of momentary anger. “Don’t underestimate an old woman,” she said, tapping a pin Wallis hadn’t noticed at first. It was a small, tight circle of 13 stars set against a deep blue background.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Wallis got to her car Stanley was gone and there was no sign of anyone else. She slid into the front seat of the Jaguar, shoving the file under the seat and dropping the race car into her purse. It made her uncomfortable to have any of it out in plain view. She made herself sit and take a few deep breaths, calm down, think rationally.
She turned the key, the car easily jumping into a quiet hum and fit her phone’s Bluetooth into place. She dialed the number from the back of the file and put the car into reverse, rolling backwards as she listened to the long rings.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Alice?”
“Yes? Who’s this? Nancy?”
“No, my name is Wallis Jones. Stanley gave me…”
“I know who you are, the Black Widow. Stanley shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her voice pitching into a whine. “I don’t want to be bothered.”
“I don’t want to get you involved again,” she said quickly, trying to avoid losing Alice before she’d had a chance to find out anything. “I was wondering if we could meet. Maybe I could ask you about what happened. It might help me fill in a few holes.”
“No. I’m starting over. I don’t want to be bothered.”
“I need your help.”
“Then you’re out of luck. You should do what I should have done sooner. Let it go and be glad you can.”
“I don’t know if I believe there’s a conspiracy at all, Alice. Maybe it’s more old fashioned than that. Sad, but old fashioned.” She put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot back onto Granite Avenue.
“If that helps you sleep, go with that. More of a reason to let go.”
“But until I know, I need to make sure that a friend of mine hasn’t gotten mixed up in something she can’t handle.”
“Sharon Whittaker, I know. Ray told me. Why is she your responsibility, or do you make a habit of rescuing people?”
“How about if we leave my motives alone and you and I get together for lunch?” she said, turning onto Libby Avenue.
“I told you, no. Not a chance.”
“Give me something, Alice, and I’ll leave you alone. Give me a thread.”
“Okay, okay. I suppose you earned your nickname…”
“Not really,” said Wallis, a little tersely.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Alice, “even if you don’t like it. It’s more a compliment, the way I see it. Anytime you can get those good old boys to fear and respect you, it means you’re something powerful. They’re too arrogant to be afraid of much.”