The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [87]
“Ben, the only difference between this week and last week is that now you know what she looks like naked.”
“That’s not true,” Ben said. “You weren’t there this weekend, we had—”
“Stop talking about this weekend and listen to what I’m saying,” Nathan said, rising from the couch. “For an intelligent person, you’re being extremely stupid. If my theory’s right, Lisa’s doing exactly what she should be doing. Think about it! She’s playing with both your heads!”
Silence swept the room. Ben walked over to the table and sorted through the pile of mail. Pulling out his own letters, he added, “At least Lisa is concerned with my problems.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Nathan asked.
“It means that she spent the entire weekend talking with me about all this crap with Rick. All you guys did was waste your energy on stupid pranks.”
“Now you’re reaching,” Nathan said. “You know how much time we’ve all invested in this. Both Ober and I have risked our jobs to catch Rick. And if that engagement announcement was anything, it was the best way we could think of to cheer you up. Besides, the only reason Lisa spends so much time talking to you is to see what you know.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben said, heading toward the stairs.
“Don’t get upset and walk away,” Nathan said. “Come back down here and deal with it.”
Ignoring his roommate, Ben walked to his room.
“You should have known he was going to get defensive,” Ober said when Ben was out of sight.
“Of course I knew he’d be defensive,” Nathan said. “But tough shit. I’m looking out for him.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Ober said, “but maybe you could have been more sensitive.”
“You want me to be more sensitive?” Nathan laughed.
“I’m serious. Ben’s really scared about this.”
“Of course he’s scared. I was the one who said it before Thanksgiving—sex will always interfere with rational thought. But it’s time for Ben to wake up. He had his fun, and now it’s time to face reality: Lisa can’t be trusted.”
“How was your trip?” Rick asked, talking into his cellular phone as he waited for his baggage at the airport carousel.
“Did you really have to follow us to Boston?”
“Of course,” Rick explained. “I had to keep an eye on my investment.”
“Well, I hope you’re happy with the results. You’ve made him completely nuts.”
“The thing with his father really freaked him out, huh?” Rick asked.
“That’s the understatement of the year. Now he doesn’t know who to trust.”
“Does he suspect you?”
“I don’t think so, but he’s much harder to deal with. He barely spoke the whole way back.”
Rick smiled and moved the phone to his other ear. “That’s what happens when you know you’re about to lose. You start taking it out on those closest to you.”
When he entered his room, Ben threw the mail on his desk and slumped into his chair. It couldn’t possibly be Lisa, he told himself, his thumbs tapping against the desktop in a disturbed drumbeat. Look at the facts. With everything you know about her, what are the chances she’s some kind of double agent? No. It’s impossible. There’s no way.
As he replayed the details in his head, he turned the single, messy pile of mail into three more manageable stacks, creating one pile for bills, one for junk mail, and one for personal letters. Noticing a magazine offer addressed to Benjamin N. Addison, he knew that Newsweek had sold his name. Picking up another addressed to Benjamin L. Addison, he knew that the Legal Times had made some quick cash. When he saw one addressed to Benjamin C. Addison, he frowned, annoyed that his credit card company had done it, too. He’d specifically told them not to. As he made a mental notation to call the company, he noticed the top letter on the personal-letter pile. Picking up the plain white envelope, he was surprised to see that there was no return address, no stamp, and therefore no postmark.
Ben slid his thumb across the sealed flap, opened the envelope, and pulled out the short, typed letter. “Dear Ben: Hope your Thanksgiving was enjoyable—I’m sure I’ll hear all about it. Sincerely,