Big Data: A Startup Thriller Novel

Chapter 88

         

By noon, I was lost in the side streets of Brooklyn. I'd given my Uber driver the address, but construction blockades made it impossible for the car to reach the house. So I jumped out two blocks away, figuring I could make it the rest of the way on foot. I was looking for 11210. But the numbers jumped from 11200 to 11300. No 11210.

I swear I spent an entire hour going up and down that street. Then another hour going up and down side streets. I had a pounding headache. I needed coffee.

I'd never been to Brooklyn before. It felt a little like San Francisco's Mission Street. An eclectic mix of row houses and apartments peppered with mom-and-pop shops, nail salons, and delis. At the end of the block, I spotted a coffee shop and headed for it. Then I saw something even better across the street: Dunkin' Donuts. Coffee and sugar.

It was cramped inside. I ordered and sat down at a table near the window. I stared out at the street as I waited for my coffee to cool down.

"Luna Valencia." The man's voice was deep and guttural. "I'm with the police. We need to talk."

I smiled.

"I never realized before. You weren't a cop when you said that the first time. Isn't that a crime?"

"What brings you to this neck of the woods? It's been a while," he said.

"Almost a year."

"No shit. How'd you find me?"

"I've been doing this a long time," I said with a smile. "You left without saying goodbye."

"I'm no good at goodbyes," he said.

Alex sat down with some effort. He was using a cane now and looked a lot older than I remembered. I could make out a purple bruise on his cheek. He asked again how I had found him. I told him about my expedition to the New York City Police Department headquarters. At first, they'd been reluctant to give me his address, but I was persistent.

"I never got the chance to thank you properly," I said. I slid my uneaten donut—strawberry frosted with sprinkles—toward him.

"Isn't that a little cliché?" he said, looking at the donut.

I shrugged. He picked it up.

"Hey, so there was something else, too," I said. He raised an eyebrow, already a bite into the donut. "You remember that day in the shipyard?"

He nodded slowly.

"You yelled something right before rushing Doug. Do you remember that?"

"No."

"You said you were doing it for Simon."

Alex stopped chewing. Then he swallowed.

"I did?"

I nodded.

"I'm thirsty," he said. He began to haul himself up out of the chair, but I motioned for him to stay put.

"I'll get it. What do you want? Coffee?"

He finished getting up.

"No, I'm going to need something stronger than coffee."

He led me to a small bar across the street. There was only one other person in the place, hunched over at the far end of the bar. We took the first stools we found. He ordered a whiskey. I slid some cash across the bar.

"Drink with me," he said.

"Too early in the day for me."

"Then thanks for coming," he said. "And thanks for the donut."