Need You Now by James Grippando Read Free Book Online Page A

BOS is interested in protecting organized crime. You just have to find him.”
    “Me? ”
    “I don’t work for BOS anymore, remember?”
    I could have used another shot of tequila; any brand would do. “Do you have any proof that the money flowing to Cushman was from organized crime?”
    “I’ve done some digging. Do you remember the name of the man who murdered Gerry Collins?”
    I felt another puff of cold air. That guy at the bar was heading out the door, leaving a full beer untouched.
    “I’m sure I heard it in the news,” I said, “but the name escapes me.”
    “A semiretired guy in his late fifties who lost his entire life savings in Cushman’s Ponzi scheme. Never stood trial. He entered a guilty plea in order to get a life sentence instead of the death penalty. His name was Tony Martin.”
    “Singapore Mall,” I said.
    “What?”
    “That’s where I’ve seen that guy before. It was one of our first dates. I was taking your picture in front of the fountain at Singapore Mall, and he’s the guy who came up and offered to snap one of the two of us.”
    “Patrick, that was months ago and on the other side of the world.”
    I jumped from the table, ran out the door, and stopped cold on the sidewalk. I looked left, then right. Parked cars lined the street, a delivery truck passed, and an old woman was scooping her poodle’s droppings into a plastic bag. I had no idea which way to go. I stood frozen, not sure what to do. There was no sign of the man in the bar, and as the moments passed, I became less and less sure that I’d actually seen him before in Singapore or anywhere else.
    You’re getting a little crazy.
    I went inside and returned to my seat at the table.
    “What the hell was that about?” asked Lilly.
    “Sorry, I—I just had this strange feeling that we were being watched.”
    She looked at me with concern. “Welcome to my world. The paranoia will take over if you let it. You need to get a grip. This is important. Please listen to what I’m telling you.”
    “I’m sorry, but I actually have been listening. You said the guy who killed Gerry Collins was Tony Martin.”
    “That’s my point. His name is not Tony Martin. It turns out his real name is Tony Mandretti.”
    “Who is Tony Mandretti?”
    The waitress returned. Either she’d read my mind, or Lilly had ordered a shot of tequila for each of us while I was chasing after nothing.
    But why would he order a beer and not drink it?
    “Now there’s a really good question,” said Lilly. “Who is Tony Mandretti?”
    She leaned over her brimming shot glass, and I saw a distinct sparkle of excitement in her eye. “This is where things really get interesting.”

6
    N ight fell
as we left Puffy’s Tavern.
    Our bar talk had drifted well away from Ponzi
schemes and bank secrecy, and I lost count of the empty shot glasses. Tequila
had been known to loosen my tongue, and regrettably I found myself confessing
that thoughts of Lilly had crossed my mind whenever I heard Lady Antebellum
singing “Need You Now.” This she found even more hilarious than bird shit on my
head. There’s a line in the song about being a little drunk, and we definitely
were, so we sang our own rendition on the way back to my place, adjusting for
the fact that we didn’t really care what time it was:
    . . . a quarter
after something / I’m out of milk / and I need your cow.
    Okay, so we were more than a little drunk.
    My apartment was on the third floor. After several
stabs at the keyhole, I managed to unlock the door and get us inside. It
occurred to me that the first woman to visit my New York apartment was the same
woman who had dumped me in Singapore, but there was no time to appreciate the
irony. It took longer to find the light switch than to end up in the loft,
though the decision wasn’t completely without discussion.
    “Should we do this?”
    “Yes.”
    “You make a very persuasive argument.”
    Knew I shouldn’t call / but
I’ve lost all my