Jonathan Kellerman - Silent Partner

“Could you?”

“I hope so.”

“Come on, Alex, what the hell’s going on? One minute we’re talking theory; the next, Trapp’s neck-deep in shit and the speedboats are revving.”

“Trapp’s a very small part of it,” I said. “I just don’t want to paint the whole picture right now.”

He stared at me, went into the kitchen and came back with a carton of milk and a stale bagel. Tearing off a chunk of bagel and washing it down, he finally said, “Temporary reprieve, pal. But some day- soon- we’re gonna have ourselves a little sit-down.”

“There’s nothing to sit down about, Milo. It’s like an expert once told me, no evidence, nothing real.”

He held the stare a while longer before his face softened.

“Okay,” he said. “I get it. No neat wrap-up. Case of the law-enforcement blue balls: You were angling for a love affair with Little Miss Justice, found you couldn’t go all the way. But hell, you handled that kind of thing in high school, should be able to handle it now that you’re all grown up.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m all grown up.”

“Screw you, Peter Pan.” Then: “How’re you doing, Alex? Seriously.”

“Good.”

“All things considered.”

I nodded.

“You look,” he said, “as if you’ve been considering lots of things.”

“Just tuning up the system… Milo, I appreciate that you care, appreciate all the things you’ve done for me. Right now I could really use being alone.”

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“See you later.”

He left without another word.

Robin came home the next day, wearing a dress I’d never seen before and the look of a first-grader about to recite in front of the class. I accepted her embrace, then asked her what had brought her back.

“You’re not happy to see me,” she said.

“I am. You took me by surprise.” I carried her suitcase into the living room.

She said, “I was thinking of coming down anyway.” Slipping her arm through mine. “I missed you, really wanted to talk to you last night and called. The operator at the service said you’d gone away without telling anyone where or for how long. She said you’d sounded different, tired and angry-‘cussing like a trucker.’ I was worried.”

“Charity time,” I said, stepping back.

She looked at me as if for the first time.

I said, “I’m sorry, but right at this moment, I’m not going to be the man you want.”

“I’ve pushed it too far,” she said.

“No. It’s just that I’ve had to do a lot of thinking. Long overdue.”

She blinked hard, her eyes got wet, and she turned away. “Shit.”

I said, “Some of it has to do with you; a lot of it doesn’t. I know you want to take care of me- know that’s important to you. But right now I’m not ready for that, couldn’t accept it in a way that would give you what you want.”

She slumped, sat down on the couch.

I sat facing her, said, “That’s not anger speaking. Maybe some of it is, but it’s not that simple. There are some things I need to work out for myself. Time I have to take.”

She blinked some more, put on a smile that looked so painful, she might have just carved it in her flesh. “Who am I to complain about that?”

“No,” I said, “this isn’t about revenge. There’s nothing to take revenge for- in the end, you did me a favor.”

“Glad to oblige,” she said. The tears began to flow, but she staunched them. “No, I won’t do that- you deserve better than that. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, right?”

I extended my hand. She shook her head, bit her lip.

“There was another man,” she said. “Nothing serious- old flame from college, coffee and pie. I nipped it in the bud. But it came so close. I still feel I’ve betrayed you.”

I said, “I’ve betrayed you too.”

She gave a low moan and closed her eyes. “Who?”

“Old flame from college.”

“Is she… Are you still…”

“No, it’s not like that, never was like that. She captured my head, not my cock. Now she’s gone forever. But it changed me.”

She walked to the end of the room, folded her arms over her breasts and said nothing for a while. Then: “Alex, what’s going to become of us?”

“I don’t know. A happy ending would be nice. But I have a ways to go before I’m going to be much use to you- to anyone.”

“I like you just the way you are.”

“Like you, too,” I said, so automatically that it made both of us laugh.

She faced me. I extended my hand. She came back, looked up at me. We touched, merged, began undressing each other wordlessly, fell back on the couch and made love there. Made sex. Competent, seamless union born of practice and ritual, so seamless it verged on incestuous.

When it was over, she sat up and said, “It’s not going to be that easy, is it?”

I shook my head. “What is that’s worthwhile?”

She peeled away from me, got up, stood in front of the picture window. Backlit, naked, curls hanging down her back like a cluster of grapes.

“The shop’s probably a godawful mess,” she said. “Messages slipped under the door, all those backed-up orders.”

“Go ahead,” I said. “Do what you need to do.”

She turned, ran back to me, lay on me, sobbed on my chest. We stayed together, cheek to cheek, before the restlessness set in, then went our separate ways.

Sharon. Kruse. The Ratman. Even Larry. Enough problems between us to fill a textbook.

Alone again, I thought of mine, all the unfinished business. I dealt with it by taking the easy way out: found a number in my Rolodex and dialed.

Fourth ring: “Hello?”

“Mrs. Burkhalter? Denise? This is Dr. Delaware.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“If this is a bad time-”

“No, no, it’s… I’m… It’s funny, I was just thinking of you. Darren’s still, uh, crying a lot.”

“Some of that can be expected.”

“Actually,” she said, “he’s crying more. Lots. Since the last time he saw you. And not sleeping or eating right.”

“Has anything changed since the last time I saw you?”

“Just the money- though I can’t feel that yet. It’s not real. I mean, Mr. Worthy says it could take months for it to come in. Meanwhile, we’re still getting bank letters and my husband’s insurance company is still dragging their damned… Why am I going on like this? That’s not what you want to hear about.”

“I want to hear anything you want to tell me about.”

Pause. “I’m real sorry. About the way I ran my mouth at you.”

“That’s okay. You’ve been through plenty.”

“Isn’t that the truth. From day one-” Her voice broke. “I keep going on about other stuff, and it’s my baby I’m all shook about- crying and yelling and hitting at me, not wanting to know me like he used to. Meanwhile, all the waiting. No one’s around. I don’t know what to do- I just don’t understand why all this is happening.”

Another pause, this one mine. Therapeutic.

She sniffled through it.

I said, “I’m sorry, Denise. I wish I could take away your pain.”

“Take it and stuff it in a bag and drop it in the sewer,” she said. “Take everyone’s.”

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

“Yeah.” Small laugh. “What should I do, Doc? With Darren.”

“Has he been playing- the way he played in my office?”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “He won’t. I give him the cars and tell him what to do, but he just looks at them and starts screaming.”

“If you’d like to bring him in, I’d be happy to see him,” I said. “Or if the drive’s too long, I can refer you to someone closer.”