“Nothing you’ve told me says he’s not. And if he is gay, there’d be nothing I could or would want to do about it.”
She wiped her mouth. “You’re not gay, yourself?”
“No,” I said.
“I agree, totally. But Felipe’s
“Mario did mention some teasing at school and some toilet problems.”
“No big deal,” she said. “Felipe’s small and he doesn’t play sports so some older boys ribbed him. I told him to stand up to them, say mind your own business. That worked. As far as the toilet problems, my pediatrician said Felipe was holding in and getting impacted. I talked to Felipe and he said he didn’t like to use the bathroom at school because it was too dirty. I went and checked and he’s right, the place is filthy, I wouldn’t let my dog go there. But I didn’t want Felipe all clogged up so I started giving him a little mineral oil, woke him up a little earlier for breakfast and then thirty minutes later, ten minutes before he had to go to school, he was able to go and wouldn’t need to go in school. For number one, I did tell him to use the urinals, just stand back so his body didn’t touch anything dirty.”
“Sounds like you handled everything.”
“I thought I did. Thank you for agreeing.” Big smile. “So now I’ve fulfilled my obligation to Mario and we can enjoy our lunch.”
She spent the rest of the time recounting cases she’d worked on. Dropping names, then pledging me to confidentiality, then declaring that since she’d paid me and this was a professional meeting, the law said
When we finished, she insisted on paying but we split the check.
I walked her to her car. Gray Ford Taurus with an Avis sticker.
Careful woman.
“Thanks for meeting with me, Dr. Delaware. I feel a whole lot better.”
“My pleasure. Regards to Mario.”
“I doubt I’ll be talking to him. By the way, do you want to know the real reason I think Mario wanted me to see you? It has nothing to do with Felipe, Felipe’s obviously fine.”
“What’s the real reason?” I said.
“Guilt, Dr. Delaware. Mario may be a sociopath but he still has the capacity for guilt. And maybe I’m the only one he could show that side to.”
“What does he feel guilty about?”
“Not his work,” she said. “Not all those lives he ruined with his wiretaps and his extortion, that he’s proud of. But as a father…he knows he failed. He told me so. He’s got three daughters from three different mothers, four other sons, and they’re all a mess, two have been in prison. Plus, there was a son who he never acknowledged, who turned
“What was she?”
“Porn actress, a real lowlife, according to Mario. He said she reinvented herself as some kind of investor, but she was the same old amoral slut he’d made the mistake of knocking up and look at the results.”
I said, “Mario had no contact with this son?”
“None, the boy has no idea who his father is because Mario paid the woman off big-time so she’d lie and say it was someone else. She used the money to buy real estate, Mario used to say the Mafia had nothing on L.A. real estate people. I asked Mario why he never stepped up to the plate, because shirking wasn’t like him, he was all about paternal duty, paid child support for the other kids and Felipe. He got a look on his face and didn’t answer. Only time I’ve ever seen a hint of fear in Mario’s eyes. Anyway, nice knowing you, Dr. Delaware. I’d say till we meet again, but that’s not going to happen.”
I watched her drive away.
Stood there breathing in ocean air and a hint of fermented grapes, thought about calling Milo and finding out if Mario Fortuno’s arrest process had included taking blood.
Changed my mind.
I had six court cases pending, a nineteen-year-old patient who’d need me indefinitely. A woman who loved me.
A dog that smiled.
What else mattered?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JONATHAN KELLERMAN is one of the world’s most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a clinical psychologist to more than two dozen bestselling crime novels, including the Alex Delaware series,
