“That’s true, I guess.”
He pulled out a chair and sat close to Raymond, leaning forward on his knees. Inserting himself deeply into Raymond’s personal space. Raymond resisted the temptation to push his chair back.
He was a handsome man in his late forties, slight of build. He wore his black hair slicked back along his head. His three-piece suit was clearly expensive, dark material with a very fine pinstripe. He wore a solid-red tie over a silvery-gray dress shirt.
“Now tell me what this is all about,” he said. “I didn’t even hear the whole message. I mean, I was in the building. So I just came up.”
“Okay,” Raymond said. His voice sounded steadier than he felt. “I’m looking for a man named Luis Velez who used to come over to the west side to help this older woman who lives alone. She can’t go out on the street by herself. She’s afraid to. She’s over ninety, I think, and almost completely blind. So he used to come over and walk her to the bank and the store.”
Luis Velez shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “Not me.”
“Oh,” Raymond said.
He had known and he hadn’t known. But now there was just the one kind of knowing. The final kind. And it was a long fall down to that knowing.
“And how do you fit into all this?” Luis Velez asked him.
“How do I fit in?”
“Why are you over here asking if I’m him?”
“Well. She can’t. And she’s really worried about him. They were friends. I mean, she saw him three times a week for more than four years. She’s really broken up about the way he just sort of . . . disappeared. She thinks something terrible happened to him. I’m just trying to help.”
The man slid his chair back. Raymond breathed a muffled sigh of relief.
“I see,” he said. “You’re doing your part. That’s good. Especially for a young kid like you. You’re just the polar opposite of what everybody expects. Everybody’ll tell you the world is going to hell in a handbasket, because they think kids your age don’t give a damn about anything, but here you are. Defying expectations. Sorry we couldn’t be more helpful. But at least you got a good breakfast out of it, I see.”
His wife rose and cleared away the dishes. She stood with her back to them, rinsing off the china plates and loading them into the dishwasher.
“I do my part,” Luis Velez continued. “But not like that. I’m a professional. My time is very valuable. So I wouldn’t do that sort of thing—walking to the store with an elderly woman. But I do what I can. I give spontaneously. I don’t ask for anything in return. Just giving back. Just dropping a little something on anybody I think deserves more than what they’re getting. I’m blessed that I can afford to do that.”
“Luis is a very successful attorney,” his wife said over her shoulder. “One of the three best-known civil litigation attorneys in New York. You’ve probably seen him on the news.”
“I don’t watch the news,” Raymond said. “I’m sorry.”
“Just as well,” Luis said. “The world is going to hell in a handbasket.”
“Well,” Raymond said. “I should get out of your hair. Thank you for breakfast. And everything.”
“You tell those three parents of yours that you’re a growing boy,” the woman said. “They need to feed you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will.”
But of course he would not.
Luis Velez walked him to the door. The dogs followed.
“Here,” Luis said.
He reached something small out to Raymond. A business card. Raymond took it and held it up to read. It said “Luis Javier Velez, Esquire.” And on the bottom was a phone number, email address, and office address.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know,” the man added.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Do you have to go home and tell her you didn’t find the right guy?”
“No. She doesn’t know I’m looking. For just that reason. So I’m not always having to let her down. But I worry that I’m going to find out she was right, that something terrible happened to him. And then I’ll have to tell her. I’m really not looking forward to that. Or that nothing terrible happened to him. That he just stopped coming and didn’t bother to let her know. That might even be worse for her.”
“Well, you took it on. You’ll deal with it.”
“I suppose.”