David Wiltse - Bone Deep

"I'm not joining…" Kom grinned helplessly at Karen and Becker.

"Tovah gets a little..

"Do you think they become doctors because they want to be healers? None I've met. Certainly none of Stanley's colleagues and so-called friends.

They become doctors because their mothers wanted them to. If they can't be doctors, they become dentists, or pharmacists, all to please Mom.

'You should see these men around their mothers. Pullease."

"Well," said Karen after a very long pause, "I think we'd better be going."

At the door Kom pumped Becker's hand enthusiastically. Becker thought that if the man had a tail he would be wagging it. Kom shook Karen's hand and then kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you," he said softly to Karen. "Thank you so much."

Tovah stood behind her husband, watching the departure with an expression of profound indifference.

"Wow," said Becker, as soon as they had reached the sanctuary of their car.

"They're still watching us," Karen said. She waved at Kom, who stood within the circle of the porch light, waggling his fingers at them.

"Sweet mother-of-pearl," said Becker. "What a couple. "

"She seemed a little..

"Didn't she though. Living proof that money doesn't buy happiness. And what's with all those jewels for a little sit-down lobster gorge?"

"You don't know? She does that for him.' "For him? I thought women dressed for other women."

"Some of the time. Not tonight. She was wearing all that for him. To show off his wealth. Some of these people are like Bedouins, they have the women wear everything they possess."

"If she was doing that for him, it was the only thing she did for him. I don't think Stanley is her favorite boy."

Karen patted his hand. "John, you know a lot of things amazingly well.

Women may not be among them."

"I grant you that a certain basic mystery remains. Let me just say that she doesn't talk as if she likes her husband very much."

"On the contrary, I'd say she talks as if he doesn't spend enough time with her. If she didn't love him why would she care if he spends time with her?"

"Made up like that, I'd guess she's trying to keep anyone from spending any time with her. Or is she painting herself like that to please him too?"

"No, she does that to spite him," Karen said.

"I should have known."

"He wants her to be beautiful so he can display her as a trophy as well as the diamonds, but she does everything she can not to be… Do you think she's pretty?"

"if she let herself be, I suppose. Not as pretty as you though."

"I love a cheerful liar," said Karen. "She's absolutely gorgeous. As even a guy hopelessly in love-such as yourself-can plainly see."

"I only have eyes for you."

"Smart man," she said.

"So how does a dweeb like Stanley get a woman like that? Just money and position, a title before her name, that kind of thing?"

"He's not so bad-looking."

"He's not as attractive as she is."

"Depends on your point of view. He has such mournful eyes."

"I didn't notice.

"You wouldn't. Take my word for it, he has very expressive eyes."

"What were you two talking about in the other room?"

Karen said, "We talked about you, mostly. He likes you-a lot."

"He told you that?"

"Who should he tell, you? You'd have the same horrified reaction you're having now, only worse. He's lonely, I think. He wants a male friend.

Not much different from you, actually."

"I'm not lonely."

"You could use a male friend other than Tee. You and Tee are too much alike to do each other any good. You admit you never really talk anymore."

"I don't think I need Stanley Kom, thanks for asking."

"He's not gay, if that's what you're worried about."

"I wasn't, but how do you know? Marriage isn't proof of anything these days."

"A woman can tell by the way a man looks at her. Believe me, he's heterosexual. Don't confuse soft with gay. You probably don't like him because you couldn't knock him down without feeling like a bully."

"What, I judge my friends by whether or not I can knock them down? The man reminds me of an overgrown puppy, bouncing around with eagerness, slobbering on things."

"I thought you liked dogs."

"I like them as dogs, not as friends."

"Well, he likes you. You can do with it what you like. But that's why I asked him to take another look at Johnny's bones."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you-what's that about? We have our own experts.

Tee only used him originally because we wanted some quick answers and Kom's local."

"We can still use our own people," Karen said. "I thought it would be nice to let him take part. It would mean a lot to him. He's eager to help and it will give you two a chance to get to know each other."

"What is this? Suddenly you're a matchmaker?"

"I'm all the woman you'll ever need, big boy, and don't you forget it.

But I'm not the only person you need in your life."

"When did you decide that I need a friend?"

"When I looked into Stanley Kom's mournful eyes… They reminded me of yours."

The early-morning sun glared off the reservoir like a light shining in a mirror, causing Tee to squint as he maneuvered his car onto the broad lawn skirt that ran the length of the road alongside the lake. He pulled the cruiser as close to a cement wall as possible. The wall would shield the car from view to a certain extent from passersby but the protection was only partial. Sharp eyes would always find a police car. In Clamden there was never a place he could park with complete privacy, short of driving straight into the woods.

Despite the hour it was warm already, and Tee felt per spiration under his arms as he trudged up the hill parallel to the orchard where the bones had been found. Much of the acreage was still circumscribed by the yellow ribbons declaring it a crime scene, although Tee, the state police, and the FBI had scoured the area time and again. He wondered how many times he had walked through the orchard in the past few months, choosing its easier path up the hill, not knowing he was walking through a ghoulish graveyard.

The irony of the situation did not amuse him.

He carried the blanket that was always stored in the trunk of the cruiser and bore the stamp of the Clamden police. It was an aging brown, coarse and itchy, and it had draped the shoulders of people chilled by icy waters, covered the naked bodies of drunks and druggies, and had even been pressed into service as a shawl when the power was off in police headquarters in midwinter. It also served Tee's purposes on his weekly hike through the woods.

It took him five minutes to reach the crest of the hill; he clambered up bare rocks for the last fifty yards. He was sweating profusely by the time he reached the top and sat heavily on the worn rock overlooking the reservoir. The view was, as always, spectacular, but he avoided it now.

In a few minutes he would be called upon to admire it and he did not want his eyes to be jaded with its beauty. He was breathing hard from the climb and he thought, as he did every time, that he must lose weight. There was an easier route to the top from the other side of the hill, of course, but access to the hiking path would increase his chances of being seen. No one would see him arrive this way, no one would see him leave. Theoretically. As a policeman, he knew that the chances of actually doing anything unnoticed were not as good as they sounded in theory. People, witnesses, turned up in unexpected places, at unpredictable times. He took a risk every time he came, and he knew it and hated it, but was not able to stop himself from coming.

He heard the footsteps on the path long before she arrived. He sniffed at his armpits. She would be sweating too, but it never bothered him; he hoped it did not bother her. He smoothed the blanket on their rock and waited, pretending not to hear her until she was almost upon him.