“Not happening,” she says. “This is too weird even for me.”
When she’s gone, Jimmy says to Jacobson, “You’re welcome.”
“For what? Pissing on the only good part of my day?”
“For maybe saving your life, you stupid shit.”
“You know, Cunniff,” Rob Jacobson says, “I still need to remind you from time to time that you work for me.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Get out,” Jacobson says.
“Not until we talk.”
“Talk about what?” Jacobson says. “By the way? She’s seventeen, in case you were wondering. The age of consent in this state.”
Jimmy’s phone is still in his hand. He holds it back up for Jacobson to see. “I’m sure that will be a great comfort to her father once he gets a look at his baby girl starting to undress for you.”
Jacobson calmly reaches for his glass and drinks some wine.
“Igetthe picture,” he says. “Okay? I get it. Now what’s so important that you felt the need to barge in on me like this.”
“I never asked you this straight up, but I’m asking you now,” Jimmy says. “Simple question, but needs to be asked: Did you kill those people?”
“Which people?” Jacobson says.
Jimmy shakes his head. He can’t believe he ever went to work for this guy without getting his shots first.
“There’s nothing me or anybody else can do about the Gates family, you already got tried and acquitted on that one,” Jimmy says. “You know I’m talking about the Carsons.”
Jacobson shakes his head in disbelief.
“No shit,” he says. “You’re asking me thatnow?”
“Like I said. Just you and me. Straight up.”
“And if I say yes, what, you drive over to Jane’s house and tell her what I said and she quits me once and for all?” Jacobson says. “I know her by now. Not as well as you. But I know her, which means I know that whatever she might say, the reason she’s still around is that she doesn’t believe I did it. Or at least can’t make herself believe that I did.”
“This isn’t about her,” Jimmy says. “This is me asking you.”
Jacobson grins his snarky grin, as if he can’t help himself from always falling back into the wise-ass pose.
“I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may tend to incriminate me,” he says.
Jimmy quickly crosses the room and lifts him up off the couch, then jerks Jacobson closer until they’re nose to nose.
“For once in your miserable life,” Jimmy says quietly, “look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”
He grabs the guy’s sweater a little tighter.
“Did. You. Do. It?”
Jimmy’s not sure if what he’s seeing in Jacobson’s eyes now is fear. But it might be. Maybe Jimmy in this moment has finally made him feel cornered like the sewer rat that he is.
“I didn’t do it,” he says.
Jimmy lets him go, then shoves him back down into the couch.
