Everybody Dies Read Free Page A

are you? Not so bad. And you? Oh, about the same. Keeping busy. Me too. You're looking well. Thanks. So are you. Well. Well, it's good to see you. Same here. Take care. You too. And once with Elaine, across a crowded room at Armstrong's. Isn't that Lisa Holtzmann? Yes. I think it is. She's with somebody. Did she remarry? I don't know. She had a bad run of luck, didn't she? The miscarriage, and then losing her husband. Do you want to say hello? Oh, I don't know. She looks all wrapped up in the guy she's with, and we knew her when she was married. Another time...
    But there hadn't been another time. And here she was, in Grogan's.
    I was on my way to the bar, but just then she looked up, and our eyes met. Hers brightened. "Matt," she said, and motioned me over. "This is Florian."
    He looked too ordinary for the name. He was around forty, with light brown hair going thin on top, horn-rimmed glasses, a blue blazer over a denim shirt and striped tie. He had a wedding ring, I noted, and she did not.
    He said hello and I said hello and she said it was good to see me, and I went over to the bar and let Burke fill a glass with Coke for me. "He should be back in a minute," he said. "He said you'd be coming by."
    "He was right," I said, or something like that, not really paying attention to what I was saying, taking a sip of the Coke and not paying attention to that either, and looking over the brim of my glass at the table I'd just left. Neither of them was looking my way. They were holding hands now, I noticed, or rather he was holding her hand. Florian and Lisa, Lisa and Florian.
    Ages since I'd been with her. Years, really.
    "Andy's in back," Burke said.
    I nodded and pushed away from the bar. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and turned, and my eyes locked with those of the man I'd seen coming out of the bathroom. He had a wide wedge-shaped face, prominent eyebrows, a broad forehead, a long narrow nose, a full-lipped mouth. I knew him, and at the same time I didn't have a clue who the hell he was.
    He gave me the least little nod, but I couldn't say whether it was a nod of recognition or a simple acknowledgment of our eyes having met. Then he turned back to the bar and I walked on past him to where Andy Buckley was toeing the line and leaning way over it, aiming a dart at the board.
    "The big fellow stepped out," he said. "Care to throw a dart or two while you wait?"
    "I don't think so," I said. "It just makes me feel inadequate."
    "I didn't do things made me feel inadequate, I'd never get out of bed."
    "What about darts? What about driving a car?"
    "Jesus, that's the worst of it. Voice in my head goes, 'Look at you, you bum. Thirty-eight years old and all you can do is drive and throw darts. You call that a life, you bum, you?'"
    He tossed the dart, and it landed in the bull's-eye. "Well," he said, "if all you can do is throw darts, you might as well be good at it."
    He got the darts from the board, and when he came back I said, "There's a guy at the bar, or was, a minute ago. Where the hell did he go?"
    "Who are we talking about?"
    I moved to where I could see the faces in the back-bar mirror. I couldn't find the one I was looking for. "Guy about your age," I said. "Maybe a little younger. Wide forehead tapering to a pointed chin." And I went on describing the face I'd seen while Andy frowned and shook his head.
    "Doesn't ring a bell," he said. "He's not there now?"
    "I don't see him."
    "You don't mean Mr. Dougherty, do you? Because he's right there and- "
    "I know Mr. Dougherty, and he's got to be what, ninety years old? This guy is- "
    "My age or younger, right, you told me that and I forgot. I got to tell you, every time I turn around there's more of 'em that are younger."
    "Tell me about it."
    "Anyway, I don't see the guy, and the description doesn't ring a bell. What about him?"
    "He must have slipped out," 1 said. "The little man who wasn't there. Except he was there, and I think you talked to him."
    "At the bar? I