Doggone Read online

  ‘‘He’s the end of a perfect day. Actually a perfect afternoon that started with lunch with my husband’s ring-wearing evil bitch of an ex while inappropriately dressed in front of my new in-laws, and ended with veiled threats from the police. Of course, it’s better than yesterday, when I was naked before nearly being shot. Yeah. I was thinking a just-the-girls, never-repeat-a-thing-you-hear, drink-as-big-as-a-bathtub sort of outing.’’

  She giggled. ‘‘I thought you were great at lunch. And the radio station. And probably with the threatening policeman. I mean, he didn’t look at all scary to me, but that was probably because you took care of him, too. Really, you’ve been amazing all day.’’

  ‘‘I’ll think so, too, in about two hours,’’ I agreed.

  ‘‘We should go to my house. Then we won’t have to drive.’’

  ‘‘Connor’s house. No ghosts there.’’

  Her smile faded.

  ‘‘Hey, I’m not prying.’’

  ‘‘He’s a good man. He is.’’ She pulled the keys from her purse as we walked to the car. ‘‘We need to go to the store.’’

  ‘‘He doesn’t keep alcohol at his house?’’ I thought about it. ‘‘He definitely has beer.’’

  ‘‘I need rum.’’

  She made mojitos, which didn’t taste like alcohol. By the third glass we sipped while sitting on the deck overlooking the water, I was thinking of Montoya as a bug on my shoe. Lily was somewhere beneath him. Connor was doing okay despite the haze, but Siobhan’s husband was a bastard even through the anesthesia. She cried a lot. Except it wasn’t like she was crying. I lifted my sunglasses onto my head and peered closer. It was more like she was watering. She talked. She joked. She clinked glasses. And she watered.

  ‘‘Are you okay?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Lily is a’’—hiccup—‘‘not-nice person.’’

  ‘‘If I were that much of blight on the face of humanity, I would understand if someone tried to drown me in the soup of the day,’’ I offered.

  A cough.

  ‘‘I mean, you couldn’t blame someone for performing a public service like that, could you? Then again, any woman who doesn’t take an engagement ring off after the guy marries someone else is so pathetic we should probably sympathize.’’ I swirled and drank.

  Hiccups.

  ‘‘Until you realize that she has to be pretty damn stupid to take shots at a woman wearing the wrong clothes in front of her new in-laws. I mean, after that, laying her out in the entryway just seems like such a minor transgression, what would stop me?’’

  ‘‘I’d like to see that,’’ Siobhan whispered.

  ‘‘I’ll get you a ringside seat.’’

  ‘‘I’m a mess,’’ Siobhan said miserably.

  ‘‘Allow me to refer you to the aforementioned dress-code violation.’’

  A feeble chuckle. She picked up the pitcher and topped off her glass.

  ‘‘Whatever you’re paying for your mascara, it’s totally worth it,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Thanks.’’

  I handed her a paper towel. We’d had a sloshing situation earlier.

  ‘‘Really, if I were crying that hard I’d look like a raccoon in a clown’s nose.’’

  Her chuckle had more body. She patted her face with the towel.

  ‘‘I also honk like a goose. It’s loud and very not-pretty. ’’

  ‘‘I bet you never cry.’’

  She had me there. Or if I did cry, I did it in the shower where no one could see. I’d also deny it to my last breath.

  ‘‘Want me to ask Connor to beat him up? He owes me for his misspent youth.’’

  ‘‘No. That’s okay.’’

  ‘‘The offer’s open.’’

  She dabbed some more. ‘‘I’ll have to see her again. We’re on the same committees. We go to the same places.’’ Siobhan’s lips trembled. She seemed so fragile, so unsure of herself. Not at all like Connor or Ryan. Or the parents, for that matter. I’d bet Jack was a real piece of work.

  ‘‘I could invite her the next time somebody shoots at me. It would look like an accident.’’ I toasted her with my glass.

  ‘‘This morning I think Connor confided in a friend of his, the two of them plotting like I wasn’t there when the shooting started.’’ I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  ‘‘Blue,’’ she said.

  ‘‘You know him?’’

  ‘‘They’re thick as thieves.’’

  ‘‘Don’t suppose you could get him to tell you what’s going on?’’ I turned my head to look at her.

  ‘‘Blue or Connor?’’

  ‘‘Either.’’

  She shook her head.

  ‘‘Which is another reason I’ve got to do it,’’ I told her.

  ‘‘Do what?’’

  ‘‘Surprise him. Take care of my own troubles.’’ I raised my glass. ‘‘Unfortunately for Lily, she’s the obvious choice.’’

  ‘‘For what?’’

  ‘‘To make a statement. To show Connor and this guy Blue and my idiot boss, Morris— Have I told you about him? He’s an idiot in a pinstripe suit. Anyway, to show all of them that I’m tough and smart and take no prisoners.’’

  Siobhan giggled. ‘‘Bummer for Lily.’’

  ‘‘You know it.’’ I slouched deeper into my deck chair.

  ‘‘Jack will be mad, too.’’

  ‘‘What’s he got to be mad about?’’ My voice echoed in my head. Siobhan stiffened. ‘‘Sorry. It’s your business.’’

  ‘‘Jack’s a good man. He’s having a hard time right now, that’s all. I mean, I don’t always understand the pressure he’s under with the practice. He’s a doctor, you know. It can’t be easy for him, working with her.’’

  ‘‘Who? Lily?’’

  ‘‘Her aunt Gretchen. She’s generous. I know she supports Lily financially and gave Jackson his start in his practice, but, well, she’s a difficult person.’’

  ‘‘I’ve met her niece. I’m guessing bitch is the word you’re looking for.’’ I sipped. It was hot in the sun and I was thirsty.

  ‘‘It’s hard work. Jack’s told me. Dealing with everyone else’s issues and problems. There’s never room for your own. If he’s said it once, he’s said it a thousand times— no one thinks of the therapist.’’

  ‘‘He’s a shrink?’’

  ‘‘A psychiatrist. Yes. Didn’t I tell you?’’

  ‘‘No. You said doctor.’’

  ‘‘It’s a high-profile practice. That adds to the pressure. I mean, Gretchen Dreznik is huge. She wrote the book.’’

  I set my glass down and sat up. I swayed a little. I couldn’t have heard that right. Jack. Gretchen Dreznik. Psychiatrists.

  ‘‘What’s your husband’s name?’’

  ‘‘Jack.’’ She drained her glass, sighing.

  ‘‘Jack what?’’

  ‘‘Jackson Reed. Psychiatrist to the stars.’’ She let her hand hang next to her chair.

  Uh-oh. Dreznik and Reed. Psychiatrists. I was drunk, but not so far gone I failed to recognize that having my new brother-in-law’s name turn up in one of my cases was bad news. Jackson Reed. Psychiatrist to the stars. The biggest constellation being a millionaire named Charles Smiths.

  ‘‘I should do that,’’ Siobhan said.

  ‘‘Do what?’’

  ‘‘Make a statement.’’

  ‘‘Good idea.’’ I doubted Connor would appreciate that advice either.

  ‘‘How?’’

  ‘‘How what?’’

  ‘‘Do you make a statement?’’

  ‘‘Well, rum helps.’’ I leaned forward and refilled my glass. I had no idea what I was going to do about Jack. All I knew was that today, I deserved another glass.

  ‘‘We’ve got rum. What else?’’

  I stared at her. ‘‘Are we talking statement with a small s or a capital one?’’

  ‘‘Capital. Definitely capital.’’

  ‘‘Then there’s only one thing a
girl can do to go into the world ready for battle.’’

  Siobhan leaned close. ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘Have you ever heard of going commando?’’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘‘How’s the hangover?’’

  ‘‘If you don’t want your shoes to find out, you’ll give me that coffee.’’ I kept the cover over my head to shield me from the sun. Siobhan had taken a cab home around dinner time. I had lain down for a second.

  ‘‘What time is it?’’

  ‘‘Eight a.m.’’

  ‘‘In the morning?’’

  He lifted a corner of the sheet and held the cup while I sipped. My mouth tasted like the inside of a cave. ‘‘I will never drink again.’’

  He crouched next to the bed. ‘‘I thought you weren’t that upset yesterday.’’

  ‘‘I wasn’t.’’

  ‘‘So what was with the hot-date hang-up and the drunken journey to Jamaica?’’

  ‘‘Forget the other man. He was blind-date hideous. As for the foreign adventure, Siobhan makes good mojitos. Or at least they seemed good yesterday.’’

  ‘‘Siobhan was with you?’’

  ‘‘Ugh.’’

  ‘‘Siobhan doesn’t drink.’’

  ‘‘Ugh.’’

  ‘‘Is she okay? Did she say anything?’’

  Probably. I just couldn’t remember what. ‘‘Girl pact.’’ ‘‘What does that mean?’’

  I pulled the sheet back over my head.

  ‘‘It’s that son of a bitch she’s married to.’’

  Jack. Shit. I’d forgotten.

  ‘‘Go back to sleep,’’ Connor soothed. ‘‘I’ve got to go to the office. I’ll be back for dinner.’’

  ‘‘Um.’’ Should I tell him about Jack? Montoya? Siobhan’s card at the radio station? Not yet. I didn’t know anything yet. One thing at a time. Number one with a bullet, ha, Jackson Reed and his connection to Charles Smiths. So Jack’s name was in a file. Big deal. He’d probably treated hundreds of people. I pushed the sheet back. Connor was gone.

  I showered for a long time. I drank two pots of coffee. I took more than the daily allowed dose of aspirin. It took a couple of hours, but I stopped wanting to die.

  I called Joe at the office.

  ‘‘You do not sound good,’’ Joe said, sounding like he hadn’t slept for a week.

  ‘‘Hangover.’’

  ‘‘Of course.’’

  ‘‘Has anybody called there looking for me?’’

  ‘‘Like who?’’

  The police, maybe. ‘‘Anyone?’’

  ‘‘Not that I know of.’’

  ‘‘Could you keep your ears open? Maybe cozy up to Elizabeth the Evil and see if anyone has called our esteemed senior partner wanting to know about the case I’m working on?’’

  ‘‘Cozy up to Liz? I’d rather eat dirt.’’

  ‘‘Fine. Then search her desk when she’s not looking.’’

  ‘‘What am I looking for?’’

  ‘‘A cop named Montoya.’’

  ‘‘Morris hates cops. Even if he didn’t, there’s that pesky old attorney-client privilege thing. You’re home and dry.’’

  ‘‘Smiths isn’t the client.’’

  ‘‘Then you’re on a street corner soaking wet. I can come up with about fifty bucks for bail.’’

  ‘‘Which I won’t need if Montoya’s not getting anywhere. Listen, I need something else, too.’’

  ‘‘More than risking my job and the wrath of the world’s scariest woman? Did you give me a kidney I don’t know about?’’

  ‘‘I’ll cover your Snickers bill for a month.’’

  ‘‘Six weeks.’’

  ‘‘Five, and you’re risking diabetes. I’m thinking about your health here.’’

  ‘‘Agreed. What?’’

  ‘‘I need everything you can get on the doctor who treated Charles Smiths.’’

  ‘‘Isn’t that your identity-theft victim?’’

  ‘‘Yeah.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘He’s my brother-in-law.’’

  ‘‘The victim?’’

  ‘‘The doctor.’’

  ‘‘So?’’

  ‘‘You’re right. It’s probably nothing. But—’’

  ‘‘He’s family. Got it. How deep do you want me to go?’’

  Information was power, and I needed some of that. ‘‘Center of the earth.’’

  ‘‘I’ll e-mail you.’’

  ‘‘Thanks.’’

  An Internet search didn’t yield much. Jack was mentioned in newspaper accounts and journal articles, but always as a second banana. Lily’s aunt got all the real ink. She was some sort of über-expert big on the talking-head tour. I couldn’t resist checking out Charles Smiths, too. I’d gotten the file initially, but the thief had been my target then. Now I couldn’t help but be curious. Smiths brought up hundreds of hits. There were a couple of stories about large donations (he must donate anonymously most of the time) and a couple mentioning the interview. The rest seemed like other guys with the same name. I had more Google hits than the real Smiths did.

  When in doubt, knock on doors. When you have a hangover, take a cab. I went back to the neighborhood where I’d gone to meet Henry DeVries. It hadn’t improved. The business owners didn’t know anything new, and if they’d heard rumors since my earlier visit, my persistence wasn’t impressing them enough to share. I couldn’t even tell if they were stonewalling or really didn’t know anything. It was pretty tough going in my condition. I gave it two hours and headed back for a nap.

  ‘‘I thought we ought to get acquainted,’’ Lily said, looking beautiful and polished and perfect sitting on Connor’s couch in his condo. She’d helped herself to a glass of something. I sighed and came the rest of the way into the apartment.

  ‘‘Funny, I don’t remember inviting you.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I’ve never needed an invitation. I’m family.’’

  ‘‘Guess he never took back the keys.’’ I sat down on the couch opposite her. Calling the cops would be an overreaction. Of course, it wouldn’t be as obvious a ballistic moment as throwing her off the balcony. ‘‘That was trusting of him.’’

  ‘‘Connor and I have always been each other’s best friend.’’

  ‘‘Up until the moment you cheated on him, you mean.’’

  ‘‘Let me guess: Little brother has been telling stories. Ryan has never been my biggest fan. A little sibling rivalry. You shouldn’t take everything he says as gospel.’’

  ‘‘Rivalry? Looked more like gastric distress to me. And I’d chisel his words into stone tablets before I believed a word coming out of your mouth.’’

  A whisper of a smile touched her crimson lips. Not enough to require Botox. Very forward-thinking of her.

  ‘‘I believe in being honest with people,’’ Lily said, holding up her hand to admire the ring on her third finger.

  ‘‘Me, too. You’re honestly a bitch.’’

  ‘‘Leaving Connor was a mistake. One I intend to rectify. ’’ She adjusted the band so the diamond caught the light.

  ‘‘Bummer for you. I don’t share.’’ I sat back, fighting the urge to cross my arms. I wanted to exude calm certainty. Best not to dwell on the smooth coiffure, tailored dress, or perfect features of this woman who’d shared Connor’s bed.

  ‘‘You should go, Sara. You’re not our people. But then, you know that, don’t you? It’s impossible to miss.’’

  ‘‘Your’’—air quotes—‘‘ ‘people’ being nonhumans? Toxic blowup dolls? Vicious former friends?’’ I tried her hint of a smile.

  ‘‘My aunt is always trying to get me involved in her causes. She’s very big on the dregs of society. Out of respect for her, I’ve spent hours reaching out to the lowest classes, sharing meals and conversation with prostitutes, thieves, and criminals. No matter how much time I spend with them, they will never be my people.’’

  ‘‘Antisocial birds of a feather.�
��’

  She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her smile was ice-cold. Not unlike her heart, I suspected.

  ‘‘Between you and me,’’ she began, ‘‘it doesn’t suit. I’m happier without those unfortunate influences. Which is why I’ve decided to take Connor back. He’s on my level. But having said that, I know how to make myself understood by the’’—she looked me over, from wild curls to unlaced sneakers—‘‘inferior.’’

  ‘‘Go ahead. Grunt. I’ll try to keep up.’’

  ‘‘You can’t compete with me. We both know that. Connor’s mine. He always has been; he always will be.’’

  ‘‘Thanks for loaning him to me last night. That was sporting of you.’’ I stood up. What was I doing sharing veiled sexual references to Connor with this woman? ‘‘I don’t believe in owning people, Lily. Connor’s hands aren’t tied. He can make any choice he wants. He made it clear at lunch he’s already done so.’’

  ‘‘Only because he didn’t realize I was available.’’

  ‘‘Telling you to get lost definitely happened after you hung out the welcome mat. Speaking of welcome, you’ve outstayed yours. Get out.’’

  Lily stood, brushing manicured hands over hips to smooth her skirt.

  I called a locksmith the second she was gone. I didn’t want Lily sneaking up on me while I slept. She definitely had an air of Lizzie Borden about her. Ryan turned up as the locksmith was leaving, his keys in hand. Did everyone in the free world have a set to this condo?

  ‘‘I hate to break the news to you, Sara, but my brother doesn’t know anything about women.’’ Ryan held the sliding door open and we dropped onto deck chairs with cold bottles of beer in hand.

  ‘‘Truer words were never spoken.’’ I took a swig from my beer, watching a tourist boat chug toward the marina.

  ‘‘It’s not just you, either. His name is pretty much mud all over town. Mom told me she was going to talk to Connor. She was not happy that you were forced to endure a scene on your first official outing.’’

  ‘‘I thought he was pretty good at the end.’’

  ‘‘I would have hit her back,’’ Ryan said with relish.

  ‘‘No, you wouldn’t.’’

  ‘‘Oh, yeah, I would.’’

  ‘‘I just can’t see a McNamara man hitting a woman, Ryan.’’