“Yeah. With Fidelity. After she disappeared, things weren’t the same. I took off to Virginia and got my union card. Electrician.”

“So why aren’t you running wires right now?” I ask.

“Construction dried up. So I went to bartending school in Virginia Beach, got some experience. I always liked Boston. I just needed to come back as somebody else.”

“Is that when you changed your name?”

“Yup. New name. Less hair. I had an aunt Lillian. Died when I was five.”

“Why didn’t you hang around to talk to the police after Suzanne disappeared? You must’ve known you’d be a valuable witness.”

“I always thought Cole was behind it and that the cops would get him. That was before he was released from the Pats, became a famous political figure, and got off scot-free.”

“Lillian, what was Cole Wright like? I mean, back when he and Suzanne were dating.”

She stares at the table. I can feel her choosing her words. “Ninety percent of the time, Cole seemed smart, funny, kind. A good guy.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“If he’d been drinking a lot or lost a game or if the coaches were riding him, his temper came out, along with his prima donna complex. He thought he was entitled to anything he wanted. Anything.”

“He get rough with people?”

“Sometimes.”

“With Suzanne?”

“They had some fights. I know that for a fact.” She looks at the band, who are picking up their instruments for a second set. “I gotta get back to work.”

“Lillian. Amber. What are you keeping from me?”

She says in a low voice, “Are you really gonna investigate Cole Wright, the First Gentleman of the United States? Are you really after the truth? Because nobody else was.”

“I am. That’s why I’m here.” I see her biting her lip. I lean in. “You know something.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. Then: “Near the end of the season, the Pats were supposed to crush the Steelers. Instead, they got their balls kicked in. The after-party turned into a wake. Lots of booze, some guys fighting, really bad energy. Dark. Dangerous.”

“You were there?”

She nods. “So was Suzanne. And Cole. But the team brass was around, so they were pretending not to be together. Cole was hanging out more with me.”

I hear the drum pounding from the corner. The fiddle answers.

“Lillian!” a waitress calls.

“I gotta go,” she says.

“Can we talk again?” I ask.

“Give me your number. I’ll call you.”

I get the feeling she’s been wanting somebody to talk to for a long time. I scrawl my digits on a napkin and hand it to her. She tucks it into her jeans pocket.

I take her arm and squeeze it lightly. “I need you. Suzanne needs you.”