Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

35

Hawk drove to Susan’s while I drove Mattie home later that day.

“If there’s any trouble.”

Mattie didn’t answer.

“If you see anything.”

Still more silence. Mattie sat in the passenger seat of my aging yet classic Land Cruiser. Her arms were crossed over her chest while she took in the wonderful scenery along the Mass Pike.

“We just have to take precautions,” I said.

“Did you take precautions when you worked with Sixkill?”

“No,” I said. “But I wish I had.”

“I am not Sixkill.”

“I would never confuse you for a large, muscular Native American.”

Mattie didn’t laugh. But Mattie seldom laughed. I took the exit toward Fenway and the neighborhood where Mattie kept a small apartment.

“These people aren’t like the toughs from Southie,” I said. “They’re not a bunch of leg breakers of even Jumpin’ Jack Flynn’s caliber.”

“Please don’t say that name.”

I nodded. I slowed at a traffic light. My air conditioner was on the fritz, and we had the windows down. In my rearview mirror, I could see Pearl panting in the backseat.

“Until we know what we’ve got,” I said.

“We know what we have,” Mattie said. “You would’ve never heard about Peter Steiner or Poppy Palmer if it weren’t for me.”

“True.”

“And if you really live by the code, then you should respect mine, too,” she said. “I’m the one who gave my word to Chloe Turner and Amelia Lynch. I’m the one who made a promise that we’d get that bastard. Now what am I supposed to do? Sit around and hide while you and Hawk go out and bust some skulls? That’s not what I signed on for. That’s bullshit.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But as good of a detective as you may be, you’re not equipped to deal with this crew. These are men who’ve made a special trip to Boston to scare and intimidate us. That’s their only job.”

“You taught Sixkill to shoot.”

“I did.”

“And fight.”

“Sixkill could already fight,” I said. “But Henry and I taught him to fight better.”

“Why don’t you teach me?”

I knew where this was headed and was fine with the direction. I’d had a similar conversation with Susan when we’d discussed how to help Mattie. Many of my ideas Susan called old-fashioned and sexist. I had simply asked if Susan might take Mattie shopping since she seemed to rotate a few different T-shirts, jeans, and her Sox pitching jacket.

“I will.”

“But not now.”

“Hawk and I have been doing this since the Pleistocene era.”

“Got to start somewhere.”

The traffic started to move, and I flowed with it. With the flow came a little fresh, while not cool, air into the car. I could hear Pearl panting and smell her puppy breath. I hit a small pothole and the rear suspension groaned with age.

“You haven’t even asked what I’ve been up to,” Mattie said.

“What have you been up to?”

“I haven’t just been paying your overdue bills and writing invoices,” she said. “If you’d taken two seconds to wonder, I might have told you I found two more victims of Peter Steiner.”

I glanced at her for a moment but then turned my eyes back on the road. We headed past Kenmore Square and the big Barnes & Noble under the Citgo sign. It was hot and very bright, driving toward the setting sun.

“And both of them said they’d talk to Rita.”

“When did this happen?”

“They both did the massage thing last year,” Mattie said. “Amelia Lynch put me in touch. I met with them this morning at Quincy Market. Some pretty sick stuff, Spenser. One of them has actually been on that freaky-deaky island.”

“And?”

“Like I said, some sick stuff,” Mattie said. “Steiner keeps a staff out on his place. They bring these old creepazoids cocktails, rub their saggy old shoulders with oil. But they get paid. It’s a lot of money. More money than their parents make in a month.”

“Can you get them to Rita’s?”

“Hmm,” Mattie said. “Thought you said to take it easy for a while. Let you and Hawk handle the man business and all that.”

“I never said ‘man business.’”

“But you implied it.”

“I implied that Hawk and I were more skilled dealing in these matters,” I said.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute.”

I nodded and weaved in and out of traffic. I turned down along Mattie’s street, right off the Northeastern campus, and slowed in front of her building. We sat for a moment, the car running, the windows down. Pearl rambled up into Mattie’s lap and then wandered over to mine.

“I like that dog,” Mattie said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“I’ll watch my back,” she said. “I’ve been doing that my whole freakin’ life. And I’ll see about getting the girls to Rita’s.”

“If you notice anything at all.”

“I’m not the one with the reputation for making trouble,” Mattie said.

“Not yet.”

“Yeah,” Mattie said, grinning. She pulled her ball cap down in her eyes and then reached for the door handle. “But I’m working on it.”