I was sitting on Clark’s large front deck enjoying the evening with Greg beside me in his wheelchair, holding my hand, when Clark hobbled out on his crutches and joined us. At our feet, Wainwright snored and farted happily. Although it was August, the area was experiencing a brief break in its usual relentless summer heat.
“Lorraine’s decided to stay on here for a while,” Clark an-nounced. “She needs time to sort out things concerning Elliot and Chicago. She’s not even sure she wants to go back except to pack up her stuff. She said she’s calling her employer on Monday and quitting.”
“Is Mom staying here too?” I asked.
Clark shook his head. “She said she wants to go home as soon as you two return from Colorado. She said she has things to do.” He chuckled. “She probably wants to soak in the glamor of being involved in the shootout. So once you get home, call me and I’ll stick her skinny ass on a plane.”
While we sat quietly, a motorcycle pulled into Clark’s driveway. The driver lifted one long leg over and slid off while taking off his helmet. Much to my surprise, but not Clark’s, it was Buzz.
“Hi, folks,” the young man said as he bounded up to us. “Lorraine ready?” He didn’t say a word about what had happened in Southern California just a couple of days ago. Instead, he crouched down to stroke Wainwright, who lifted his head and wagged his tail at the attention.
“Here I am,” Lorraine said as she came out of the house.
Buzz beamed at her. “You look amazing.”
And she did. It was the first time since arriving from Chicago that Lorraine looked truly happy.
With a kiss to her dad’s forehead and a wave to us, Lorraine put on the extra helmet Buzz handed her. Then they climbed on his motorcycle and took off.
“Is he the reason Lorraine wants to stay?” Greg asked.
Clark shrugged. “She could do worse, and has.” He shifted his cast with a grunt. “I never liked Elliot. He’s a pompous ass. I just never told Lorraine how I felt. I say good riddance. Buzz is a hardworking and educated young man from a nice family, and he’s going places. Like his cousin Enrique, Willie is grooming him for the organization’s management team.”
Greg and I both continued to stare at Clark. “And?” I asked, not feeling the need to say more.
Clark took a deep breath. “And I had a long talk with Lorraine last night about Buzz and Willie and who Willie is and why I work for him.”
“And?” asked Greg, taking his turn.
“And she said she understands and is okay with it after spending time with both of them and seeing them in action.” He laughed again. “She said Mom called Willie Batman, and that’s how she’s going to think of him.”
“And I suppose that Buzz is Robin?” I asked with amusement.
“No,” Clark answered with a smile. “Buzz is Alejandro. That’s his real name.”
the end
Acknowledgments
Once again, I take my hat off to the usual suspects and partners in crime: my incredible agent, Whitney Lee; my editors at Midnight Ink, Terri Bischoff and Rebecca Zins; and everyone else at Midnight Ink/Llewellyn Worldwide who had a hand in making this book, and all those before it, a reality.
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