The Guilty - Jason Pinter [101]
'David, how can such an educated man watch such tripe?'
You know what he said?"
"No, what did he say?"
"He said every smart person needs some stupidity to take
their minds off of life."
"Mya used to always make me watch videos of people
getting tricked," I said. "Candid camera-type stuff."
"Oh!" Cindy said, clapping her hands together. "Like the
one where someone drops a fake spider onto the shoppers
at the mall."
"She almost burned out my DVD player at school, making
me watch that."
Cindy's face was red, her smile long and genuine. She
looked over at her daughter, her head swathed in bandages,
and the smile quickly disappeared. "I hope you get to watch
those with her again sometime," she said. "Henry?"
"Yes, Mrs. Loverne?"
"Would you like to watch those videos with me and Mya
sometime? When she gets out of this place?"
"There's nothing I'd rather do more," I said. And I meant it.
"Henry, would you mind giving me some time alone with
my daughter?"
"Of course not," I said. "You have my cell phone number
in case you need anything, right?"
She held up her phone. "It's been programmed in here for
a long time."
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I smiled. "Please call me. For anything."
Cindy only nodded, and went back to staring at her
daughter. I stood up, went over to Mya, kissed her lightly on
the forehead. Cindy was beaming as I stood up.
"Take care, Mrs. Loverne."
"You, too, Henry. Such a handsome boy. I'm so glad my
baby dated a boy with such ambition."
"Goodbye, Mrs. Loverne."
I left the hospital and met Curt outside. Then I caught a
cab to Rockefeller Plaza.
Roberts had to have left a trail somewhere. Pastor Mark
Rheingold. Something about him wasn't right. And where
better to find a trail to heaven than to start with a man of God?
47
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Amanda spun around. Darcy Lapore was standing by her
desk, arms folded as though expecting an easy yes. Darcy was
married, in her early thirties, made less than thirty grand a
year, yet never came to work wearing an outfit that cost less
than the net worth of the average Colombian drug czar. Her
husband--a sweet man named Greg who just happened to
work at a hedge fund--lavished expensive jewels and Caribbean vacations on her like the Gulf of Mexico might dry up
at any moment. Despite this, Darcy still gave out her phone
number to any suitor who asked. Always off by one number,
though, and thankfully men were pretty stupid.
Amanda had never been to the Bahamas. Or Mexico. She'd
never been outside the continental United States. It wasn't that
Lawrence and Harriet never tried to take her on family
vacation, but they would always be that: Lawrence and
Harriet. They would never be her parents--her family. She
never had any desire to go away with them. It was like going
away with a roommate you didn't particularly get along with.
Children found themselves at odds with their parents all the
time, but there was always an inherent love, a binding that sur- The Guilty
295
passed most animosity. She never had that bond. So the animosity lingered.
It wasn't hate, they were good people after all, but there
was never any desire to spend more time with them than she
had to. Brief chats at the dinner table, superficial discussions
about homework, friends, occasionally boys and the future.
Amanda loved to talk about the future.
Darcy was constantly stuck in the present. The "what now."
Which is why Amanda liked her.
Today Darcy was wearing a stylish Versace pantsuit and a
maroon tank top underneath. Her buoyant cleavage was
visible above the lapels. Appropriate attire for a not-for-profit
organization. A thin string of pearls danced around her neck,
and the diamonds in her ears could have choked a horse.
"Baby, you want to talk?" she repeated.
"You know, I appreciate the gesture," Amanda said, "but
I'm okay. Thanks anyway."
"You don't look okay, honey darling," Darcy said. That
was another Darcy trademark--taking two NutraSweet words
and sticking them together like syrup on top of