She wanted to speak but didn’t or couldn’t.
“I’ve never had such a long talk with anybody,” he said.
“Man or woman. Not a real talk where I said things about myself and they wanted to know what I was saying.”
“I want to stop drinking,” she said.
“Will you still talk to me if you do?”
“ What do you want from me?” Kronin Stark asked Raela five days later.
She was too weak now to get up from her bed. The giant loomed above her. Because of the weakness of her vision, he seemed to be shimmering.
“You know,” she said. “And I want my brother back in the house and for you to apologize to him.”
“You think you can order me?”
“Leave me alone.”
She closed her eyes until the shadow that covered her was gone.
2 6 8
F o r t u n a t e S o n
The next morning in the lounge area of the Cape Hotel in Beverly Hills, a slight man in a rumpled light-gray suit approached Kronin Stark’s table. The man’s name was Silas Renfield, but everyone called him Renny. Renny worked for the governor, though he had no particular job title — no official position at all. He showed up at odd hours and traveled extensively around the state and the nation. Whenever he appeared at the governor’s door he was always admitted whether or not he had an appointment.
“Hello, Mr. Stark,” Renny said, remaining on his feet.
“Sit,” Kronin replied.
“How are you, sir?”
“I don’t have time for pleasantries, Mr. Renfield. You know what I want. Are you ready to give it to me?”
“The boy was convicted of a violent crime under a state law that the governor himself pushed through the legislature. It would be . . . unseemly for him to rescind his own legislation.”
“I’m not asking for him to overturn the law. All I need is for him to allow clemency for one boy, a hero.”
“This boy was convicted of gang activity.”
“He was abandoned by the system, left on the streets to fend for himself. He was shot down even though he was unarmed, and he saved a child’s life from a mad gunman, almost dying in the process.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but the governor was quite clear with me this morning. He is not offering clemency for anyone convicted under his law.”
“I understand that,” Kronin replied. “A man should stick by his principles. But don’t you forget that all of the resources I used to get your man elected will now be used against him.”
“Mr. Stark —”
“This meeting is over.”
2 6 9
Wa l t e r M o s l e y
“What about the fund-raiser at the arena this Saturday?”
“Canceled as of noon today.”
“And the dinner with the Royal Family?”
“I’m rescinding the offer.”
“This is a mistake, Mr. Stark.”
“Yes, it is,” Kronin replied. “And you and your governor are the ones making it.”
At f i r st C on stanc e Baker thought that she only wanted Eric for a plaything. She said as much to him on that first night between their early bouts of torrid lovemaking. But she had found something in his arms that she’d never known before with a man. Maybe, she thought, it was because he was so young and sweet. But she doubted that. He spoke to her in low tones while they were in passion. He didn’t whisper sweet noth-ings, he made declarative statements about what he was going to do. And he did everything he promised. Constance felt taken over by the young man. She wanted to make herself his.
At three in the morning she woke him to say that she had just called her Jim Harris and ended their six-year relationship.
“Why?” Eric asked.
“Because I never knew what being with a real man could be like. When you make love to me I feel like crawling out of my skin. You make me want to get down on my hands and knees. No man has ever made me feel like that.”
Eric had heard words like this before from women and girls, but he was surprised at Constance. She seemed so in control of herself, so in charge. He didn’t mind when she said that she wanted to sleep with him. He thought that it was just sex.
“I told the doorman to call me if you came by,” she’d told him when they closed the door to her bedroom. “I told Jim 2 7 0
F o r t u n a t e S o n
that something had come up at the office and I had to go have a meeting.”
