The bar was empty, the lights dimmed for the night when Raveneau and Celeste sat down at a table. In the early evening the wind blew in hard gusts as a storm came in off the ocean. It was raining and outside the street was dark and wet and the sodium street lights threw orange light through sheets of rain on to the oiled wood of the restaurant floor. Raveneau hung his dripping coat on the back of a nearby chair. A bottle of a Rioja sat between them, along with salt cod crostini and a salad of farro, shrimp, and cucumber. She smiled at him and said, ‘This is something we can do now. Are you really OK?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine, and Drury is with the FBI.’
‘He killed an Oakland police officer. He could have killed you.’
‘Yeah, he could have.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’
‘Sure.’ Raveneau glanced at her. Of course he was scared. ‘I didn’t know what he was going to do, but I didn’t think he wanted to kill himself or me.’
‘But you seem so normal now.’
‘I’m really not.’
‘I hope not.’
He didn’t answer that. He poured her wine. He poured himself more wine and lifted his glass, touched hers, took a sip, and then drank more. It was hard not to just talk with her, tell her about the bomb casings and all the rest.
‘We had the radio on as we were cleaning up here and they said he was held in connection with the murders at that cabinet shop. How did the FBI get involved?’
‘That’s about a delivery he was part of. He helped the wrong people and doesn’t know where it’s going to lead. He screwed up badly. He’s like a big truck, an eighteen wheeler that’s come over the crest of mountains, started down, and the brakes are fading. He thought he was smart and clever and had control of his life and now it’s so out of control he doesn’t even realize yet his next fifteen years are in prison, and that’s if he gives up what he knows.’
‘Which you can’t tell me about.’
‘That’s right, Celeste, I can’t tell you what I’d like to.’
‘Even though you might have gotten killed today.’
Raveneau picked up one of the little pieces of toast with salt cod on it. He was surprised he had any appetite but he was hungry. He poured more wine and waited.
‘We were busy tonight,’ she said. ‘People are ordering the mixed drinks and that’s good. I can tell already we’re going to be a place where people come for drinks and crostini. Maybe a few salads will catch on like this one.’
‘It’ll catch.’
He scooped some of the farro salad and saw she was staring at him.
‘You were a hostage at gunpoint and now you’re sitting here eating.’
‘I’m sitting with you.’ He took another bite and another swallow of wine and said, ‘We’re trying to get from Drury to people who hired him. We may have pushed him too hard.’
‘I wish you had called me before you went into that house. Did you think of calling me?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
OK, so now they were to it. But even knowing it was coming he didn’t have an answer she was going to like.
‘There wasn’t much time and I needed to get in a frame of mind where I was focused on getting the hostage out and then myself. I think you might have worried and wanted to know why I was taking the risk.’
‘I already know why and calling me doesn’t mean you have to explain. It means you want to hear my voice before you take a risk like that. It means something could happen. It means what I don’t want to ever do again is hear on the radio you’re risking your life in a hostage negotiation and not talk to you. I’d rather you called me and said you’ve got to do it. Then I would know.’
‘Next time I’ll call you.’
He tried to say that in a light way, but it fell flat.
‘You didn’t call me for hours after.’
Raveneau nodded. He understood yet it was hard to believe they were having this conversation. Still, it continued a while longer. Then as she got up to get something he brought her chair around the table. He put it alongside his and they sat close to each other. He poured more wine and they watched the rain through the windows and let it be until his phone buzzed.
‘Thanks for everything,’ Coe said. ‘We’re touring with Drury at dawn.’
‘You won’t get much time.’
‘I know, and I’ll call and let you know if we learn anything. What time do you fly tomorrow?’
‘Late morning and I’m back in a couple of days.’
He hung up and felt the fatigue of all the spent adrenaline wash through him, but he didn’t want to leave yet. Being with Celeste was when he felt calmest and happiest. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her. For the first time since they started going out he knew he should be living with her. They locked up the bar and left and the rain pounded on the roof as they walked the boardwalk to the deck and inside his place. Late in the night he woke to Celeste shaking him awake. Her voice was soft.
‘Ben, Ben, you’re having a nightmare.’
Part of it was still with him, but he said, ‘I was trying to find a phone to call you.’
‘You kept saying hurry. I think you said the word President. What were you dreaming about? You were trying to get somewhere. Where were you trying to get to?’
‘I don’t know.’
She lay back down then rested a cool hand on his forehead.
‘You’re very hot. You sounded very worried.’
His heart was still pounding but he couldn’t remember the dream any more.