Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

26

I was back in my hotel room, speaking with Susan. A thunderstorm had moved into Boca, and the back gardens were awash in long sheets of rain. The rain tapped hard at the banana trees, palms, and hibiscus outside my window.

“An entire island?” Susan said.

“Apparently besides being a whiz with investments, he also plays Mr. Rourke to horny old billionaires.”

“Pedophiles.”

“The chief wasn’t sure what happens on the island, but that’s the working theory.”

“How’s Mattie?”

“She turned a cold shoulder at the chief’s office,” I said. “She didn’t like that the chief wanted to speak to me first.”

“You said it was her case,” Susan said. “Perhaps you should have insisted.”

“The chief thought Mattie was much younger.”

“So?”

“He thought I was her pimp,” I said. “Bringing her to Steiner’s compound.”

“Were you wearing a white linen suit?” she said.

“No,” I said. “But I am thinking of buying one. Think of how dashing I’d look, taking you out for a stroll on the Harvard Square, and popping into Charlie’s for a burger and a cold one.”

“I won’t go walking with you in a white suit,” she said. “And I’d prefer a cocktail at the Russell House Tavern when you get home.”

“One more day,” I said. “And tomorrow won’t be any easier. I’m meeting with Special Agent Epstein alone outside the FBI office. It’s impossible to bring Mattie to get what I need from him.”

“Have you tried to explain that to her?”

“Working up the courage.”

I’d bought two beers at the hotel bar, and the first one was already empty. I planned to meet Mattie in thirty minutes at SeaGrille at the Beach Club. I had enlightened her about how a long day of sleuthing demanded an evening of fine dining. I looked at my perfectly made king bed. The hotel was lovely but absolutely worthless without Susan.

“How’s Pearl?” I said.

“The puppy is a terror.”

“That little bundle of energy?” I said. “Never.”

“She ate the heel off those Manolo Blahnik shoes we bought in Beverly Hills.”

“The ones you wore when we—”

“Exactly.”

“I’m pretty sure we broke that chair,” I said.

“And your little pup also has been leaving little presents upstairs and downstairs,” she said. “I had to have Janet take her today just to get in my last few patients.”

“This stage is the toughest,” I said. “She’s no different than the first two Pearls. It’ll take another few months for house-training, and this is the worst time for teething. She doesn’t know your Manolo Blahniks from a rawhide bone.”

“She needs to learn.”

“Give her time.”

“I didn’t ask for another dog,” she said. “Pearl was Pearl. This dog isn’t her.”

I waited for a moment and could hear her breathing across the many miles up the Eastern Seaboard. I tried to craft my words carefully for Susan and Pearl.

“You feel disloyal,” I said. “To Pearl.”

“Are you trying to shrink the shrink?”

“No,” I said. “I’m just trying to understand why you won’t accept her.”

“I’m doing my best,” Susan said.

“I know.”

“Love,” she said.

“Love.”