Overkill(13)

He clunked ice cubes into a glass and reached for a decanter of vodka. “Why the sour face, Up? And, by the way, I was joshing. I don’t plan to blaze around. I’ll break in my new car like it was a baby stroller. Scout’s honor.”

He carried his drink over to the sitting area and tapped glasses with both men before flopping onto the sofa. He drank from his late mother’s finest cut crystal, then gave a long ah of appreciation for the vodka as he rested his head on the tufted sofa back.

“Thinking of moments like this was what kept me sane during my incarceration.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “God, am I ever glad that my debt to society has been paid.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Sid raised his glass in a toast. He noticed that Upton was slower to raise his. After they’d all taken a drink, Sid said to Eban, “Frida cooked a prime rib for dinner. Your homecoming gift from her.”

“Sounds delicious. She can make me sandwiches with it tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going out.”

Sid felt the glance Up sent his way, but he pretended not to notice it. “I thought you would want to have dinner here with us.”

“Sorry. I’m sure you two will do justice to the prime rib, but I’ve made other plans.”

Casually, Sid asked, “Big plans?”

“Cal and Theo wanted to take me to dinner. God, it seems ages since the three of us have been together.” He shook an ice cube into his mouth and crunched it.

Upton cleared his throat. “Maybe this fresh start should include cultivating new friendships, Eban.”

“We’ll see.” He shot them a smile, then, after a beat, said, “Look at your glasses. Nearly empty. We can’t let that happen.” He got to his feet, picked up their tumblers, and carried them to the bar for a refill.

Over that round, Eban was brought up to date on the goings-on of business associates and social acquaintances.

At one point, he quipped, “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

They spent a convivial hour. The only wet blanket among them was Upton, who maintained an uncharacteristic reserve. Eban seemed not to notice, but it annoyed Sid, who couldn’t account for it.

After polishing off his second drink, Eban stood. “I’m meeting the guys at one of our haunts. I think they may have secretly scared up some of the old crowd, so if this is to be a surprise party, I don’t want to be late.”

He went around Upton’s chair. From behind, he gripped him by both shoulders and gave them an affectionate squeeze. “See you later, Uncle Up. Thanks for celebrating with me.”

Upton reached up and patted the back of Eban’s hand. “Be careful in that snazzy car.”

“Play your cards right, and I’ll take you for a spin. I may even give you a turn at the wheel.” As he approached Sid, Sid stood up and shook hands with him. When they broke, Eban looked down to find that Sid had slipped him a money clip containing several hundred-dollar bills.

He whistled. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Enjoy yourself, but do as Up said and be careful.”

Eban pocketed the money, then headed for the door. There he paused and turned to blow them a kiss. “Don’t you boys stay up too late.” His laughter followed him down the hallway.

Sid sat back down and smiled when he heard the sports car growl to life out in the drive. He looked across at Upton, who was frowning into his second drink, which he’d barely touched.

Sid said, “All right, I’m spoiling him. You’ve made your disapproval obvious. But he deserves—”

“Sid.” Upton raised his hand palm out. “I don’t believe you want to get into a discussion about what Eban deserves. Or what any of us deserve.”

“What’s with this mood? Cheer up for godsake. Finish your drink.”

“No, I’ve had enough.” Up placed his glass on the small table at his elbow.

Sid gave him a lingering look. They’d known each other since adolescence. Upton wasn’t being pompous or cranky. He wasn’t sulking. He was genuinely bothered about something.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

After having avoided direct eye contact for the last half hour, Upton looked straight at him now. “You think Eban’s early release is cause for celebration.”

“It’s not?”

“It is. But I don’t believe it’s occurred to either you or him what ramifications it may have.”

“Such as?”

“Does the name Kathryn Lennon mean anything to you?”

“No, should it? Who is she?”

“A smart, savvy, ambitious state prosecutor, handpicked by the attorney general himself.”

“A politician in the making?”

“No. She’s much more interested in criminal cases, and she’s not afraid to tackle tough ones. In other words, Sid, she’s Eban’s worst nightmare.”





Chapter 6





Zach scaled the challenging incline. It was the steepest, the hardest, the home stretch of his punishing workout. His leg muscles were burning, heart was drumming, lungs working doubly hard to draw in air. At this altitude, it was thin.

Several times a week, moving at a rapid but safe clip, he made the trek from his house down to the river and back up. He pushed himself through the last hundred yards, cutting himself no slack.