82 Desire

really?” She sounded utterly unfazed. “What are you?”
    “I’m just an asshole who left his wife and job. And former life.”
    “Just picked up and left? No note, no nothing?”
    “It’s not a pretty story. I did some pretty bad stuff.”
    “Involving your wife?”
    “Involving business.”
    She nodded. “Oh. The export/import business.”
    It took him a minute to catch on to what she meant. “No, no. Not drugs. This was about a kind of fundamental dishonesty—of a corporate kind, say. And then a couple of years ago, I had a sort of revelation about the way I’d lived and how stupid and immoral it was. And how much I wanted to leave it behind.”
    Her eyes flooded with sudden sympathy, and she grasped his hand, which was nervously demolishing a shrimp chip. “But my wife didn’t… get it.” Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to mention that Bebe knew nothing about either the Skinners or the revelation. “We grew apart, she started seeing someone…”
    At least, that part was true. Dina squeezed his hand. “… and I left at the first opportunity.”
    “Whew,” she said. “I was afraid it was going to be a lot worse than that.”
    “Well, it is. I’ve left out a few details.”
    They had drunk their wine by now, and could manage a laugh. He told her about the Skinners, just the bare outlines, disguising the company and even the town. And then he detonated the bomb: “Two people have been killed.”
    “You lied. It is drugs.”
    “No, I didn’t. It’s what I said it was. But understand—I know enough to…”
    “No! No, don’t go back. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That you could go back and tell the police what you know? What would that accomplish?”
    “Well, there are more people involved. Two of them could get killed.”
    “How about you? You could get killed, too.” Her steamed vegetables had arrived and she tucked into them with relish, not speaking for a minute. Then she said, “Wait a minute. I’ve got a great idea. Remember that wonderful old movie, Three Days of the Condor ? Why not just go to the press and tell them everything—then nobody’ll have a reason to kill you or anybody else.”
    Russell shook his head vigorously. “Can’t do that. Uh-uh.”
    “What’s the big deal? Why not?”
    “My wife’s a very high-profile woman—it would do her irreparable harm.”
    Dina’s voice got kvetchy. “Oh, come on. How high-profile can she be? Is she the mayor or something?”
    He nodded. “She’s in politics. She might be mayor one day—if this stuff about me doesn’t come out.”
    “You still love her, don’t you?”
    He searched for her hand. “Things between us didn’t work out. I’ve been trying to face that for a long time—I wouldn’t have left if I thought we had a ghost of a chance as a couple.”
    “Ah, ‘it is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.’ “ She gave him an ironic look, but he drew a blank. “It’s from a book,” she said. “Oh, never mind. The point is, you’re a liability to her right now. But on the other hand, people might die if you don’t speak up. Is that it in a nutshell?”
    He nodded. “That’s about it.”
    “May I make a suggestion?”
    “Please. That’s why I’m telling you.”
    “How about an anonymous tip?”
    “Hey.” He chewed on it a bit, along with some seaweed that came with the seared tuna. “You might have something there. Why couldn’t I just write a letter detailing the whole thing and FedEx it to the police? And not sign it?”
    “Not bad. Not bad at all. But even if you don’t sign it, they might figure out who sent it. Who are you, by the way?”
    He took her hand and kissed it. “Russell Fortier, my dear Ms. Wolf. Late of Louisiana.”
    “Enchanté. If they figure out Russell Fortier sent it, they’ll know where he is.”
    “Yeah. Damn. I wish I could get out of the country. But I have no papers—either as Russell or Dean.”
    “You need some forgeries.”
    “Well, I’ve been meaning to do that. The problem is, I’m the new kid in town. I suppose you wouldn’t know where the bad guys hang?”
    She was silent for a moment. “Let me make a phone call.”
    “Huh?” He was staggered.
    “My brother’s a probation officer.”
    She borrowed some change and left. It was a good ten minutes before she came back. “You have to call him.”
    “What? I don’t get it.”
    “Well, first I had to swear on a stack of Bibles I wouldn’t go with