A late night editing/rewrite session with "The Button Man" gets me this: When she came in, the woman started for Tomey. I blocked her path. She started to bluster. “What have you done?” “He’s fine. Just had a little shock.” “A shock?” “Yes. He heard some bad news.” “About Lisa Briggs?” “Yes. She’s dead.” She sucked a breath between her teeth and studied me. “Is that how you told him? ‘She’s dead.’ Just blurted it out like that?” “I didn’t tell him. My partner over here did. But, yes. Pretty much.” She scorched Gene with a glance. “Is that some kind of ploy? Or are you just an insensitive bastard?” “A little of both,” he admitted. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Both of you.” She brushed past me. “Let me clean him up.” “Just a minute.” Gene took a step and rested a hand on her arm. She spun and slapped his hand away. “Don’t you touch me! Don’t you touch me! What kind of people are you?” “We’re trying to do our job. Trying to find Lisa Briggs’ killer.” “And you think it’s Gerry Tomey?” She actually laughed. “You see how he reacted to the mere mention of death? Look at him. You still think he’s your killer?” If she could package the scorn and dismissal in her voice and wrap it in the look she gave us, the military could use it as a weapon against terrorists. I started to take a dimmer view of our bright idea and wondered how we could ease out of Tomey’s office with some of our skin still on our bones. But Gene didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was because he just didn’t give two damns or a crap about the delicate sensibilities of Gerry Tomey. “Nah. I don’t think it’s him anymore. You, partner?” I shook my head. “What I do think,” Gene continued. “is that Mr, Tomey here might be able to shed some light on who might have had a problem with Lisa. Boyfriend or whatever.” “Mr. Tomey wouldn’t know anything like that.” “How do you know?” “He just wouldn’t. He didn’t have that sort of relationship with any of the office people. He’s their employer and he kept things on that level.” “So who do we need to talk to?” “Marlys Duncan. Lisa’s best friend.” “Where can we find her?” She glanced at her watch and went over to the desk where she flipped open Tomey’s cell phone and thumbed in a number. “I gotta learn to do that,” Gene whispered. “Every time I try I end up calling Outer Mongolia or Butthole, Paraguay.” “Marlys will be waiting for you in the lunch room. It’s on the eleventh floor. Anyone can direct you.” We nodded, thanked her, and headed for the door. “Wait a minute.” She walked over to Gene. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I should not have called you a bastard for the way you dealt with Mr. Tomey. I’m sure you already knew.” It was a subtle as a pitchfork to the scrotum. Gene laughed and pushed me towards the door.
Posted on: Wed, 07 Aug 2013 15:34:31 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015