“Me? Jealous of Teri? Jealous of someone who has to go to Neiman-Marcus just to have something to do with her day?” My voice rose a register to a falsetto. “Jesus, Dick! Get a grip on yourself. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last decade: lying in wait until our paths crossed by total accident so I could take a bead on your wife?”

He flushed and frowned. “Be that as it may, I’m warning you for your own good to back away from Diamond Head. Certainly to stop throwing around outrageous accusations like theft. Words like that won’t let you down any more lightly if this thing comes to a major confrontation. Peter was most upset when he heard it was you who’d gone into the canal. In fact, it was a major embarrassment to him, given your connection to me. Thank God he was able to persuade the papers not to print anything about it—”

“You weren’t born stupid, Dick.” I cut him off, my own eyes blazing. “Use your goddamn head. I just finished telling you I can link goons at Diamond Head to the plant manager. And you’ve just connected Peter Felitti to the plant manager and the goons. Which side do you want to be on when all this comes out? Not even Peter Felitti can suppress it forever. Besides, I know a guy at the Herald-Star who’s itching to run a piece on what I was doing at Diamond Head Friday night.”

Dick curled a lip. “Oh, yes, you and the guys you know. Being divorced has certainly been an asset to your women’s lib lifestyle, hasn’t it?”

My hand swept up reflexively; I flung coffee down the front of his charcoal-striped shirt. Barbara was hovering nearby in case I needed protection. I pulled a twenty from my purse and thrust it into her apron pocket.

“Maybe you and Marge can reenact your Good Samaritan routine for the talent here. Boy can’t go to all his high-priced meetings with coffee on his shirt.” I was on my feet, panting.

“You’ll be sorry for this, Vic. Very sorry you ever chose to have this conversation with me.” Dick was white with humiliation and fury.

“You called the meeting, Richard. But by all means, send me the dry-cleaning bill.” My legs were trembling as I left the diner.

40

No Longer Missing

I found a bench at a bus stop across the street and sat there, taking in great gulps of air. I was still shaking with fury, pounding my right fist against my thigh. People waiting for the bus backed away from me: another crazy on the loose.