“Be nice for Pearl,” I said, “next bring your dog to work day.”
“Yes, she hates sleeping on the floor.”
“Me too,” I said. “How come you’re not working?”
“I canceled my appointments today, I thought we needed to celebrate.”
“Have I missed an anniversary date?” I said.
“No. I just think you’ve done a hell of a job in some very messy cases that your friends got you into.”
The room brightened for a moment as thunder chased lightning past the window. I had a bite of sandwich and a sip of coffee.
“You being one of the friends?” I said.
“And Hawk being the other.”
“What are friends for?”
“And Hawk’s friend got tenure?” Susan said.
“Yes.”
“And Amir whatsisname is going to jail?”
“Pretty sure. Couple of state cops found him hiding naked, trying to get out of the rain, in a culvert under 495. Soon as they got him into the car he started blaming Milo for all his troubles, and along the way confessed to everything. Which works out great because Milo is blaming everything on Amir.”
“What about Milo?” Susan said.
“He appears eager to testify against Amir, and the two security guys who tossed Prentice out the window.”
“Will he go to jail?”
“I believe him that he didn’t know about the Lamont murder,” I said. “And since it’s not illegal to be a racist gay homophobe, I assume that if the DA believes him, he’ll walk when he gets through testifying. His future as a charismatic leader seems grim, though.”
We ate a little more sandwich and watched a little more lightning and listened to a little more thunder.
“I know the meteorological explanations,” I said to Susan, “and I believe them. But it’s hard not to think of the gods during a thunderstorm.”
“I know,” she said. “And Robinson wasn’t even gay.”
“Nope.”
“But he wouldn’t say so.”
“Nope.”
“That’s either great integrity or great foolishness.”
“Integrity is often foolish,” I said.
She smiled at me and I was thrilled.
“Of course it is,” she said. “I understand from sources that KC Roth has gone back to her therapist in Providence.”
“Just needed a little professional intervention,” I said.
“Didn’t you tell me that she asked if you’d ever had sex in the office?”
“Yes.”
“And you said you didn’t want to do so on the floor, and were waiting for a couch.”
“Why yes,” I said.
Susan smiled again. Not the smile of approval, which thrilled me, but the smile of promise which could easily launch a thousand ships.
“I believe I see a pattern emerging,” I said.
“You’re a trained observer,” Susan said. “Do you mind making love after you’ve eaten?”
“After, before, during, instead of – whatever the schedule calls for.”
Susan got up and went to my door and locked it. Then she took off her raincoat and hung it on the coatrack. She took her hat off and put it on top of my file cabinet. She slipped her dress over her head, and hung it on a hanger on the rack, taking time to smooth out any wrinkles. She fluffed her hair carefully. Then she turned and smiled at me and finished undressing. She picked up the big hat and put it on.
“Shall we try the couch?” she said.
“With the hat on?” I said.
“Special effects,” Susan said.
“Works for me,” I said.
The hat was on the floor shortly after we began. The storm made the room sort of dim, except when the lightning made it brilliant. The rain was thick on the window. By the time we finished we were on the floor beside the hat.
