“KC,” I said. “You’re slightly larger than the tree trunk. I can see you.”
She came out from behind the tree and walked toward me. She was dressed in black. She wore a large black hat, and her face, pale in contrast to her outfit, was tragic.
“I can’t stay away from you,” she said.
“Work on it,” I said.
“I think of you all the time.”
“How about the stalker,” I said. “He come back?”
“No. I need to talk with you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Can we go upstairs?”
“No.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes.”
She looked up at me with her head lowered. She looked like an old Hedy Lamarr publicity still.
“Of me or yourself?” she said.
“You,” I said.
“Damn you, can’t you understand how desperate I am. I’ve been abandoned, betrayed, my husband has left me, I’m being stalked.”
“I don’t think you’re being stalked anymore,” I said.
“You caught him?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“I reasoned with him.”
“Who?”
“Louis Vincent,” I said.
“Louis?”
“Sorry.”
“Louis – oh my god,” she said and fell forward into my arms.
I held onto her and waited while she cried a little. When she stopped crying I let her go. She stayed where she was, leaning hard against me.
“Stand straight,” I said.
“I can’t,” she said. “It’s too much, too awful.”
I gave her a couple of seconds and when she didn’t stop leaning in to me, I stepped suddenly back away from her. She lurched forward and caught herself, and got her balance.
When she was on her own balance again her face darkened and she looked at me.
“You unutterable bastard,” she said, and turned and strode away.
Her hips swung angrily as she headed toward Arlington Street.
Unutterable, I thought. Not bad.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Hawk and I were drinking draught beer in a joint across from the Fleet Center. The Fleet Center had replaced the old Garden, and I could tell that the joint was trying to go along with the upscale clientele, because there was a bowl of cashews on the bar. I had several. So did Hawk.
“Usually it’s a fight to see who gets the six cashews in a bowl of mixed nuts,” I said.
“Kind of ruins the competition,” Hawk said. “When they all cashews.”
We drank some beer.
“You got that stalker thing worked out?” Hawk said.
“Yes, I identified the stalker and explained to him why he should stop it.”
“Firmly,” Hawk said.
“Quite.”
“Good,” Hawk said. “Don’t like stalkers.”
“Only problem is now getting rid of the stalkee.”
Hawk turned his head slowly and looked at me and his eyes were bright with pleasure.
