'She ever speak of an organization called Matters of the Heart?'
'No.'
'She ever mention anyone named Darrin O'Mara?'
'No,'
'What did she talk about when you were training,' I said.
'How smart she was, how good-looking she was, how many men lusted after her but were intimidated, how much money she had.'
'I detect a pattern,' I said. Mark grinned.
'She after you?' he said.
'Yes.'
'Don't mean to pry, but was she successful?'
'You are prying, and no.'
'I think she was glad I was gay,' Mark said. 'Then she could fail to seduce me without feeling like a loser.'
'You know her late husband?' I said.
'Never met him. I was always there during the day. He never was.'
'She ever talk about Bernie Eisen?'
'Nope.
'Ellen Eisen?'
'Nope.'
'Anyone named Gavin? Or Cooper?'
'Like I said, Marlene only talked about Marlene and how fabulous she was.'
'It doesn't seem much fun being Marlene,' I said.
'Fun? God no. She's like half the women I train. They don't really care about being in shape. They just want a friend.' We talked for a while longer while I finished my tea. I learned nothing.
'Crushed mint in the tea?' I said.
'Yes. I grow it myself.'
'Good,' I said.
He smiled at me.
'A lot of things are,' he said.
'Marlene?'
'Marlene's not one of them,' he said.
42
I t was maybe the first really great day of summer. Cloudless, bright, temperature about eighty. No humidity. I got to my office early, started the coffee, opened all three windows in my office bay, swiveled my chair, and put my feet up on the windowsill. There was just enough breeze to move the air pleasantly. The coffeemaker made a soothing noise until it finished. I got up and poured a cup and went back to the window. I felt like singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game.'
I heard the door open behind me and as I started to swivel back, I heard Adele McCallister say, 'My God, Spenser, I don't know what to do.'
I was around now, and had my feet on the floor.
'You could close the door,' I said.
'Oh, of course.'
She went back and closed it and came to my desk and stood. 'Gavin's dead,' she said.
'Yes,' I said, 'I know.'
'I heard it was suicide.'
I nodded.
'Was it?'
'Probably not,' I said.
'Oh, God. Oh my God.'
I gestured toward my client chair. 'Sit down,' I said.
'No. God, I ... You have to help me.'
