the FBI decoder ring and free T-shirt?”
“Why are you being such a smartass about this?”
“Maybe I don’t give a shit anymore, Brooke. You’re a smart lady,
didn’t that one ever occur to you?”
Neither said a word for the next couple of miles.
“If it were up to me, you’d get anything you wanted, including your own
island somewhere with servants, but it’s not up to me,” Reynolds
finally said.
He shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. If they want to come after me, so
be it. They’ll find me a little tougher bite than they think.”
“Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind? “He held up the
flowers. “You can tell me where Faith is.”
“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”
“Oh, come on, sure you can. You just have to say it.”
“Lee, please-”
He smashed his big fist against the dashboard, cracking it. “Dammit,
Brooke, you don’t understand. I have to see Faith. I have to!”
“You’re wrong, Lee, I do understand. And that’s why this is so hard
for me. But if I tell you and you go to her, that puts her in danger.
And you too. You know that. That breaks all the rules. And I’m not
going to do that. I’m sorry. You don’t know how terrible I feel about
all this.”
Lee laid his head against the back of the seat and the two remained
silent for another several minutes as Reynolds drove aimlessly.
“How is she?” he finally asked quietly.
“I won’t lie to you. That bullet did a lot of damage. She’s
recovering, but slowly. They almost lost her a couple more times along
the way.”
Lee put his hand over his face, slowly shook his head.
“If it’s any consolation, she was as upset as you are about this
arrangement.”
“Boy,” Lee said, “that just makes everything wonderful. I’m the
friggin’ king of the world.”
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“You’re really not going to let me see her, are you?”
“No, I’m really not.”
“Then you can drop me at the corner.”
“But your car’s back at the hospital.”
He opened the car door before she came to a stop. “I’ll walk.”
“It’s miles,” Reynolds said, her voice strained. “And it’s freezing
outside. Lee, let me drive you. Let’s go get some coffee. Talk about
this some more.”
“I need the fresh air. And what’s there to talk about? I’m all talked
out. I may never talk again.” He climbed out and then leaned back in.
“You can do something for me.”
“Just name it.”
He handed her the flowers. “Could you see that Faith gets these? I’d
appreciate it.” Lee shut the door and walked off.
Reynolds gripped the flowers and looked at Lee as he trudged away, head
down, hands stuffed in his pockets. She saw his shoulders quiver. And
then Brooke Reynolds lay back against the seat as the tears trickled
down her face.
CHAPTER 59
NINE MONTHS LATER LEE WAS STAKING OUT the hideaway townhouse of a man
soon to be involved in an acrimonious divorce proceeding with his
many-times-cheated-on wife. Lee had been hired by the very suspIcious
spouse to collect dirt on her hubby, and it hadn’t taken him long to
fill up bag after bag, as Lee watched a parade of pretty young things
flounce through the premises. The wife wanted a nice-size financial
settlement from the guy, who had about five hundred million bucks’
worth of stock options at some high-tech Internet outfit he had co
founded And Lee was very happy to help her get it. The adulterous
husband reminded him of Eddie Stipowicz, his ex-wife’s billion-dollar
man. Collecting evidence on this guy was a little bit like hurling
rocks at little Eddie’s bloated head.
Lee took out his camera and shot some pictures of a tall, blond,
miniskirted number sauntering up to the townhouse. The photo of the
bare-chested guy standing at the door awaiting her, beer can in hand, a
goofy, lascivious smile on his fat face, would be exhibit numero uno
for the wife’s lawyers. No-fault divorce laws had seriously depressed
the business of PIs running around digging up dirt, but when it came