R Is for Ricochet

rummaged around in search of a Band-Aid, I noticed Reba's gaze flicking across the monitors, taking in all ten views.
    Willard held up a bandage. "Think you can manage this yourself?"
    "Don't be mean. After all I've done for you?" She held out her finger and he pulled the red thread that opened the paper packaging. He removed the Band-Aid and applied it.
    She said, "Thanks. You're a doll. I'll recommend a raise." She made a kissing noise at him as we headed for the door.
    Behind us, Willard left his perch and followed, taking out his jumble of keys so he could unlock the front door. "Don't you be coming back. This is the last of it."
    "I won't, but you'll miss me," she said as we scooted through the door.
    "I doubt that," he said, and Reba blew him another kiss. I thought she was laying it on a bit thick, but Willard didn't seem to mind. He turned the keys in the lock and we were safe.

Chapter 22
    Reba slowed her BMW to a stop in front of my apartment. As I got out and shut the car door behind me, I saw that Cheney's little red Mercedes was parked at the curb. I felt a surge of anxiety. I'd intended to fill him in on my adventures with Reba over the past couple of days, but Jonah's call had intervened and he'd gone off to the shooting scene without my having spoken a word. The omission made me uneasy, as though I were deliberately holding out on him. Even referring to our activities as "adventures" sounded like an attempt to minimize the fact that what we'd done could jeopardize the investigation. Last night's incursion into Beck's offices had been risky enough. In a pinch, an argument could be made that Marty had invited us to tour the premises, but his offer hadn't extended to our rifling through desk drawers and stealing Onni's keys. He'd certainly never given us permission to return in his absence and enjoy the run of the place. I wanted to tell Cheney about the bundles of cash being counted, repackaged, and packed into suitcases, but I knew the discovery encompassed a little matter of criminal trespass, which tainted the knowledge. Nonetheless, I needed to unload before my withholding the information became an issue in itself.
    I went through the gate and around the side of my studio, as burdened with guilt as though I'd slept with another man. I could make excuses for my conduct, but I was accountable all the same. Cheney was sitting on my front step, still in the clothes he'd been wearing the night before. He smiled when he saw me, looking exhausted, but good. Confessing was bound to impact our relationship. I dreaded the consequences, but I had to speak up.
    I sat down on the step and slipped my hand into his. "How'd it go? You look beat."
    "Big mess. Two gangbangers dead. Hooker got caught in the crossfire and she's dead, too. Jonah sent me home to shower and change clothes. I'm due back at one. How's by you?"
    "Not that good. We need to talk."
    He focused on my face, his eyes searching. "Can it wait?"
    "I don't think so. This is about Reba. We've got a problem."
    "Meaning what?"
    "You're not going to like this."
    "Just spit it out," he said.
    "She and I connected up for dinner last night. She wanted to introduce me to Marty Blumberg, Beck's company comptroller, and I couldn't see the harm. He has dinner at Dale's every Friday night so that's where we went. He comes in and the three of us are schmoozing away. Next thing I know, she tells him how the feds are mounting a case against Beck and he – Marty – is going to end up taking the blame if he doesn't do something quick. I had no idea what she thought she was doing, but there it was."
    Cheney closed his eyes and hung his head. "Geez. I don't believe it. What the hell's wrong with her?"
    "It gets worse. She tells him Onni's a federal agent and she's screwing Beck's brains out as a way of getting the goods on him. At first, Marty resists. He really doesn't want to believe it, but Reba shows him the photos and reels him in. Then she gets us invited up to the offices – ostensibly for a tour – but she uses the opportunity to scour the place for anything she can lay her hands on, which turns out to be Onni's keys."
    I continued the rundown, giving him an unvarnished account of what had happened over the course of the past two days. I could tell he was getting pissed before I was even halfway through. He was tired. He'd had a long night and this was the last thing he needed. At the same time, I felt compelled to tell him the truth. Either I revealed the