Honeymoon - James Patterson [49]
“Just remember one thing,” said Susan. There’s always “one thing” more with her.
“What’s that? Today’s ‘one thing more’?”
“While you’re working to get Nora to drop her guard, make sure you don’t drop yours.”
Chapter 64
I DIDN’T WASTE any time. After I hung up with Susan I dialed Nora on her cell. She didn’t answer. I left a message and was sure to mention I had some good news for her.
Nora didn’t waste any time, either. She called me back almost immediately. “I could use some good news,” she said.
“I thought you probably could. That’s why I called you right away.”
“Is it regarding . . .” Her voiced trailed off.
“Yes, the results came back from the second autopsy,” I said. “While I’m not sure if ‘good news’ is the way to put it, you’ll be glad to know all the follow-up tests confirmed the conclusion of the original autopsy.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Nora, are you there?”
“I’m here,” she said before another patch of silence. “You’re right. ‘Good news’ isn’t really the way to describe it.”
“How about ‘relieved’?”
“Maybe that’s it,” she answered, her voice starting to choke up. “Now Connor can finally rest in peace.” Nora began to cry softly, and I must admit that she sounded convincing. With a last sniffle, she apologized.
“No need to be sorry. I know how hard this has been for you. Well, I guess I don’t.”
“It’s just that I still can’t get the thought out of my mind. Actually digging up a coffin.”
“It was easily one of the most unpleasant experiences I’ve had on this job,” I said.
“Does that mean you were there?”
The truth will set you free. “I’m afraid so.”
“What about the guy responsible for all this?”
“You mean that psycho O’Hara?”
“Yes, something tells me he’d actually enjoy being on hand.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he’s still back in Chicago. Between you and me, he’s not the type to get his hands dirty. The good news, though—and I think we can rightly think of this as good news—is that O’Hara is finally ready to put an end to his little inquisition.”
“He’s no longer suspicious, I take it?”
“Oh, he’ll always be suspicious,” I said. “Of everyone and everything around him. In this case, however, I think even he realizes the facts are what they are. Centennial One will make the payout. One point nine million dollars to the penny.”
“When will it happen?”
“There’s some processing—you know, routine paper shuffling. I’d say I’ll have a check for you in a week. Does that sound okay?”
“More than okay. Is there anything I need to do in the meantime? Anything to fill out?”
“There’s a release form to sign, but you do that once you have the money in hand. Other than that, there’s only one thing you have to do.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Allow me to buy you lunch, Nora. For everything I’ve put you through, it’s the least I could do.”
“That’s really not necessary. Besides, it wasn’t you who put me through anything. You’ve been very sweet. I mean it, Craig.”
“You know something, you’re right,” I said with a laugh. “If there was ever a meal that should be expensed to the company, this is it.”
“Amen,” she said with a laugh of her own. The free and easy kind. Relaxed. Uninhibited.
Music to my ears.
Like the sound of someone’s guard beginning to drop.
Chapter 65
AT LUNCHTIME SUSAN walked into Angelo’s, one of the oldest and best restaurants in Little Italy and not that far from the FBI offices. Dr. Donald Marcuse was waiting for her at a secluded booth in back.
“Susan. Such an honor. Imagine, getting you out of the office.”
Susan found herself smiling. Donald Marcuse always knew how to put her at ease: sarcasm. He was mainly a forensic psychiatrist, who often worked with the Bureau, but she’d seen him for about six months after the breakup of her marriage.
“Your hair looks great, by the way,” he said. She was wearing it in a short bob these days and had started to touch up the brown lately, which just killed her, slayed her.
“Just for informational purposes,” Susan said, “not that I really give a shit, but