Kill All the Lawyers

'Pushy?'

'Reckless.' She smiled at him, her veneers snowy white. 'But you do have something going for you.'

He waited to see if a zinger was attached to the compliment, like a stinging cell on a jellyfish.

'Victoria loves you. She loves you in a way she's never loved any other man. And that goes a long way with me.'

Wow. The Queen had never said anything to him like that before.

'Stephen, this is where you say you love her, too.'

'I do, Irene. A lot. More than I ever knew was possible. I fell for Vic when we were on opposite sides of a case, and it just grew from there.'

'So. If there's anything I can ever do for you. .'

It was an offer she'd never made before and might never make again. 'To tell you the truth, I could use some advice right now. About Victoria.'

'If you're worried, that's a good sign. Some men are so dense they never see it coming.'

'It?'

'The three-inch heel of the Prada pumps as they're walking away.'

Steve let out a sigh.

'Of course you have problems, Stephen. Every couple does. Nelson Lord was the love of my life, but boy did we fight.' She used her fingertips to squeeze the lime into her gin and tonic. 'With you and Victoria, it's even more difficult because you're so different.'

In the next seventeen minutes, Steve summarized the current state of his relationship with Victoria, admitting that, yes, he had some second thoughts about moving in together, and sure, she'd picked up on it. Now she didn't seem to want to share a Coke with him, much less live under the same roof.

'She needs to know where the two of you are headed,' Irene said.

'Why can't she just relax, go with the flow, see where it takes us?'

'Someone as highly organized as my daughter needs certainly in her life. Let's face it. Spontaneity isn't her strong suit and predictability isn't yours.'

'I can change.'

'How's that, Stephen?'

He thought about it. On the sidewalk, the usual collection of wannabe models sashayed past their table. In the street, teenage boys drove by in their parents' SUVs, gawking at the girls, their CD players blasting unintelligible reggaeton, something with a lot of drums from Tego Calderon.

'I'm gonna tell Vic to choose where we should live,' he answered. 'I'm gonna go to the ballet with her. I'm even gonna join the Kiwanis.'

Irene's laugh was a bit louder than necessary. Three gin and tonics will do that. 'If The Princess wanted a man like that, she would have married Bruce.'

Meaning Bruce Bigby, Steve knew. Real estate developer. Avocado grower. Chamber of Commerce Man of the Year.

Irene signaled for another drink. But the waiter must have been an out-of-work actor, because he seemed to be posing for a table of teenage girls in shorts and tank tops. 'Victoria dropped Bruce for you,' Irene continued. 'Why do you suppose she did that?'

'Temporary insanity?'

'She loves you the way you are, despite your many peccadillos. So don't you dare try to change. Besides, it wouldn't work. We are who we are. You, me. Victoria. Carl. All of us. Our true natures will come out, no matter what we do to disguise them.'

'That's your advice, Irene? Don't change?'

'That's it. Although. .'

Here it comes, Steve thought.

'What's the Jewish word for money?' she asked.

'Yiddish word. 'Gelt.' '

Irene smiled at him and did her best impression of a Jewish mother. 'Would it hurt you, Stephen, to bring home a little more gelt?'

Twenty-Four

DANCE FOR ME

It was dark, but the moon was three-quarters full-the waning gibbous, Bobby knew-so the yard was illuminated. Myron Goldberg spent a fortune on outdoor lighting, so the house was lit up, too. Bobby heard a whirring sound, followed by a whoosh. Below him, sprinkler heads popped out of the lawn like those aliens in War of the Worlds. A second later, water shot out, the spray chilling his bare legs. A dozen feet above the ground, Bobby was wedged into the crevice between the trunk and a gnarly limb of a mango tree.

Maria's mango tree. Bobby could smell the peachy aroma of the fruit, still green and hard. A wasp sat on one of the mangoes, antennae wiggling. Could the wasp smell it, too? It annoyed Bobby that he didn't know if wasps had a sense of smell.

Maria. Where are you?

While he waited, Bobby whispered to himself the names of the shrubs and flowers surrounding the Goldberg home. Even their gardener wouldn't know the real name of the honeysuckle with the flowers that looked like purple trumpets.

Lonicera sempervirens!

Then there was the bougainvillea vine with flowers so red, if you crushed them, the liquid would look like wine.

Maria! Where are you?

The wind picked up, rustling leaves. Bobby shivered and felt goose bumps on his legs.

If a goose gets cold, does he say to his mate: 'Hey, take a gander at my people bumps'?

It was nearly midnight. Any minute now. The Goldberg house was dark except for the outdoor lighting that cast an eerie glow over the tree and the shrubs.

'When the clock strikes twelve, be there.'

That was what Maria had said. As if he would be late. He'd been in the tree for at least an hour, and his butt hurt from the way he was wedged against the trunk.

'Should I throw pebbles against the window?'

'Totally old school, Bobby. At midnight, call but don't say who it is. Just say, 'Dance for me.' '

'What if your parents hear the ring?'

'I'll have the phone on vibrate, and I'll keep it between my thighs.'

'Wow.'

The conversation had pretty much left him breathless. Now he rehearsed his line several times, trying to lower his voice into a manly baritone, emphasizing the word 'dance' a few times, then the word 'me.'

'Dance for me.' Definitely hit the 'me.'

The hottest hottie in the sixth grade was going to dance for him. She hadn't said 'naked,' but he had his hopes.

It seemed fair, Bobby thought. He had taught Maria how to divide decimals by whole numbers and how to change fractions into decimals. She had asked him if the quotient becomes larger or smaller as the dividend becomes a greater multiple of ten.

Duh.

He checked the time in the cell phone window. Oh, jeez, 12:03. He speed-dialed her number, listened to the