JASON TWILLY WAS WEARING chinos and a navy blue sweater and had a leather bag hooked over his right shoulder. He looked handsome, urbane, as if he’d just stepped from the pages of Town & Country, and his crooked smile had lost its menace.
What are you doing here, Jason
Yuki kept the door open about four inches, just enough to see and hear him. And she clamped her hand around the gun in her pocket, felt the power of that little weapon, knowing what it could do.
Hey, you know, Yuki, if I didn’t like you so much, I’d be really hurt. I spend most of my life fending women off, and you keep slamming doors in my face.
How’d you find me
I waited for you to leave your apartment and followed you. Wasn’t that hard. Look, I’m sorry I got rough this morning.” He sighed. “It’s just that I’m in trouble. I took a huge advance on this book and the money’s gone.
Oh, really
Yeah. Sports betting. A little weakness of mine.” Twilly added a dash of boyish charm to his smile. “To be honest, it’s more than a little weakness - and it’s kind of snowballed lately. See, I’m telling you this so you understand. Really nasty people want their money back. And they don’t care if my book crashes.
Not my problem, Jason.
Wait. Wait. Just listen, okay? I can’t give back the advance, you understand, and I’ve got these debts. All I need is your feelings, your insight, your own true words - that’s where we’ll find a satisfying ending to the Michael Campion story.
Are you serious? After all the crap you’ve dished out? I have nothing to say to you, Jason.
Yuki, this isn’t personal. It’s business. I’m not going to touch you, okay? I need one crummy hour of your time, and you’re going to benefit. You’re the devoted prosecutor whose conviction was snatched from you by the little whore with a heart of stone. Yuki, you were robbed
And if I don’t want to be interviewed
Then I’ll have to write around you, and that’ll really suck. Don’t make me beg anymore, okay
Yuki took the gun out of her pocket. “This is a .357,” she said, showing it to him.
So I see,” Twilly said, his smile becoming a grin, the grin turning into laughter. “This is priceless.
I’m glad you find me amusing.
Yuki, I’m a reporter, not a freaking mobster. No, this is good. Bring your gun. God knows I want you to feel safe with me. Okay if we go for a walk
This way,” Yuki said.
She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
