I picked up a king and discarded a trey. "Gin."
She glared at me. "I've been waiting for one card since the deal."
"Them's the breaks." I didn't even bother to write down the score, just let my hand gravitate toward a stainless-steel bowl containing the dregs of a batch of popcorn. Comfort food is what I call things like popcorn and macaroni-and-cheese and milkshakes and butterscotch pudding-food that is reminiscent of childhood and reduces the world to simple terms when it becomes too complicated to bear.
Rae said, "What's the matter-you feeling gruffly?"
I smiled at the word, one of those that I've come to consider Rae-isms. "Yes. I'm sick of gin rummy, even if I am winning. Is Hank ever going to go home?"
"He's turning into a workaholic. I guess it keeps his mind off the possibility of being shot at." Rae gathered up the cards and score pad and set them on the nightstand. She wore an old gray-and-red-plaid flannel bathrobe and had conditioner on her hair; it stuck up in greasy-looking points. As she flopped back against the pillows, I noticed she seemed tense and faintly depressed.
"You look kind of gruffly, too," I said.
She shrugged.
"Worried about Willie?"
"Not really. He was settled in for the night when I left there. Had an adult western-the sexy kind, you know?- and a twelve-pack of Bud. That'll hold him."
"Things not going well with you two?"
"They're fine. The relationship's not complex enough for us to have problems. No, what it is, I need to talk to you about my job."
Uh-oh, I thought. "Go ahead." I leaned back and whacked my head on one of the bed's brass posts. Rae saw my predicament and tossed me a pillow.
"Okay," she said. "I'm not complaining, you understand. You're a great boss. It's just that… the other day when I was out in the field? It really felt good. And it made me realize that I'm not sticking to my original game plan. Shar, I'd like to take on more work, build up my hours to the point where I can get my own license. And I want to get firearms-qualified. I think it's time."
I felt a wrenching: chick leaving the nest. In Rae's case getting the license would surely motivate a departure. For one thing, she was too bright and talented to remain at All Souls doing my scut work; for another, that was the game plan she'd referred to. I couldn't blame her for wanting more than a relatively small salary, a pile of debts, a room that wasn't really a room, and a bathroom one flight down that she shared with numerous other people. And I certainly wouldn't stand in her way.
"I think you're right," I said. "I haven't really been giving you as much responsibility as you're capable of handling. Tomorrow we'll look over what we have on tap, and I'll assign more to you."
She smiled, pleased and relieved. Then she studied me over her bent knees. "You don't look too happy about this."
"I'm glad that you've progressed so far in such a short time. In a way, it's a compliment to me. But I'll miss you. I've come to rely on you. Besides, who am I going to play gin rummy or take long lunch hours with?"
"Miss me? I'm not going anywhere."
"I thought you'd want to go to a better firm."
"Shar, that was before, when I had Doug dependent on me for everything. I don't need as much money anymore. And I love All Souls as much as you do. In a way, it's like the family I never had." Rae had been brought up by her grandmother after the early deaths of her parents, and the grandmother, by her own admission, hadn't relished the responsibility.
I said, "Do you realize that's one of the first times I've heard you refer to your ex without 'the asshole' appended to his name?"
"Yeah, well, maybe I'm growing up." There was a knock at the door. She called, "Come on in."
Hank entered, looking drawn and weary. He glanced at Rae's hair and said, "Jesus, you look like you're wearing a greasy fright wig."
"Perhaps, but tomorrow I will have sleek auburn tresses. And you will still look like you're wearing a used Brillo pad."
That coaxed a smile out of him. "Touché."Tome he added, "I'm ready to go home now, if my secret-service woman will deign to accompany me." In spite of the light words, his tone was tense.
I grabbed the popcorn bowl and stood. "Let's go."
Rae got up, too, and removed the bowl from my hands. "I'll take that. I want to check and see if there're any good late movies on the tube."
Together we trooped down two flights of stairs. Ralph and Alice followed, taking an occasional tumble, refreshed for another attempt at ripping the place to shreds. In the hallway Rae said good night and herded them toward the kitchen.
Hank already had his coat on. I collected my bag and jacket from Rae's office. When I came out, he was standing by the door. I said, "Wait a minute," and took out the.38.
Hank's eyes moved to it, and he swallowed. The possibility that the sniper might wait outside was tangible to him now. I asked, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather just stay here tonight?"
"… Can't. This case I'm trying is important. I've got to get some sleep."
"All right, then. Stay put while I take a look around."
I opened the door and went out onto the front steps, gun ready. The fog was dense and still. Through it I could barely make out hazy lights in the houses on the other side of the little park; its few shade trees and trash dumpster were deep in mist-laden darkness. I stood for over a minute, watching and listening. Nothing moved, and the only sounds that came to my ears were those of a normal late evening in a quiet neighborhood.
Finally I stepped back inside and said to Hank, "It looks okay out there, but what we're going to do is make it obvious that there are two of us. My car's in the driveway, and the passenger door is unlocked. Don't hesitate or look around, just get in and slouch down. We'll drive to your place and pull right into the garage."
"What about my car?"
"We'll just leave it here. I'll pick you up in the morning so you can get it before you have to be in court. Hopefully this'll be cleared up by tomorrow night." I opened the door again and stepped back onto the porch.
Hank hesitated a few beats before he joined me. Behind him I saw Rae watching us, backlit against the kitchen door.
Outside, everything was as still as before. I scrutinized the park once more. Hank closed the door behind us. I started down the steps, putting my body in front of his. But for some reason he moved to my left. "Hey!-"
And then the branches of a tree at the edge of the park moved. Rippled, even though there was no breeze. I moved back in front of Hank, yelling at him to get down.
There was a whine. The pillar next to me splintered. A wood fragment grazed my cheek as I heard the gunshot.
Hank froze.
I hit him with the full weight of my body. Knocked him against the far railing.
Another whine. Another report. Hank grunted and tumbled down the steps.
I slid after him. Flattened my body on the pavement. No more shots. Nothing.
I moved my hand toward Hank. Touched something warm and wet. Brought my fingers up in front of my eyes. Blood.
I raised my head to stare at him. He lay very still, and the pavement around us was already staining red.
Nineteen
Frantically I felt Hank's neck for a pulse. It was there-weak and erratic.
Someone at the top of the steps shouted something about calling 911. Then Rae was kneeling beside me, grasping my arm. "Oh, Jesus-is he alive?"
"Yes-barely." I shook off her hand and stood, scanning the park. A figure was running uphill from its apex, barely visible in the thick mist.
The bastard had waited to make sure he'd hit Hank!
Rage welled up in me-cold, controlled, purposeful. I glanced at Hank, saw Jack and Larry were with him now. Doing more for him than I could. Doing more than I had. I felt as if I were viewing the scene through a polished pane of glass-one I wanted to smash into jagged, glittering shards.