‘I’m skipping the whirlybird,’ Marino retorted. ‘And do I need to remind you that the last time you had a chat with Sparkes, you pissed him off?’
‘I don’t remember,’ I said, and I really did not, for I had irritated Sparkes on more than one occasion when we disagreed about case details he thought should be released to the media.
‘I can guarantee he does, Doc. You gonna share the beer or what?’
‘I can’t believe you don’t have your own stash,’ Lucy said as she resumed working on her laptop, keys clicking.
He went to the refrigerator and helped himself to one.
‘You want my opinion at the end of the day?’ he said. ‘It’s the same as it was.’
‘Which is?’ Lucy asked without looking up.
‘Sparkes is behind this.’
He set the bottle opener on the coffee table and stopped at the door, resting his hand on the knob.
‘For one thing, it’s just too friggin’ convenient that he was suddenly out of the country when it happened,’ he talked on as he yawned. ‘So he gets someone to do his dirty work. Money.’ He slid a cigarette out of the pack in his shirt pocket and shoved it between his lips. ‘That’s all the bastard’s ever cared about, anyway. Money and his dick.’
‘Marino, for God’s sake,’ I complained.
I wanted to shut him up, and I wanted him to leave. But he ignored my cue.
‘The worst news of all is now we probably got a homicide on our hands, on top of everything else,’ he said as he opened the door. ‘Meaning yours truly here is stuck on this case like a fly on a pest strip. And that goes for the two of you. Shit.’
He got out his lighter, the cigarette moving with his lips.
‘The last thing I feel like doing right now. You know how many people that asshole’s probably got in his pocket?’ Marino would not stop. ‘Judges, sheriffs, fire marshals . . .’
‘Marino,’ I interrupted him because he was making everything worse. ‘You’re jumping to conclusions. In fact, you’re jumping to Mars.’
He pointed his unlit cigarette at me. ‘Just wait,’ he said on his way out. ‘Everywhere you turn on this one, you’re going to run into a briar patch.’
‘I’m used to it,’ I said.
‘You just think you are.’
He shut the door too hard.
‘Hey, don’t wreck the joint,’ Lucy called out after him.
‘Are you going to work on that laptop all night?’ I asked her.
‘Not all night.’
‘It’s getting late, and there’s something you and I need to discuss,’ I said, and Carrie Grethen was back in my mind.
‘What if I told you I don’t feel like it?’ Lucy wasn’t kidding.
‘It wouldn’t matter,’ I replied. ‘We have to talk.’
‘You know, Aunt Kay, if you’re going to start in on Teun and Philly . . .’
‘What?’ I said, baffled. ‘What does Teun have to do with anything?’
‘I can tell you don’t like her.’
‘That’s utterly ridiculous.’
‘I can see through you,’ she went on.
‘I have nothing against Teun, and she is not relevant to this conversation.’
My niece got silent. She began taking off her boots.
‘Lucy, I got a letter from Carrie.’
I waited to see a response and was rewarded with none.
‘It’s a bizarre note. Threatening, harassing, from Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center in New York.’
I paused again as Lucy dropped a boot to the shag carpeting.
‘She’s basically making sure we know that she intends to cause a lot of trouble during her trial,’ I explained. ‘Not that this should come as any great surprise. But, well, I . . .’ I stumbled as she tugged off wet socks and massaged her pale feet. ‘We just need to be prepared, that’s all.’
Lucy unbuckled her belt and unzipped her pants as if she had not heard a word I’d said. She pulled her filthy shirt over her head and threw it on the floor, stripping down to sports bra and cotton panties. She stalked toward the bathroom, her body beautiful and fluid, and I sat staring after her, stunned, until I heard water run.