“It occurred to me tonight that I should explore those opportunities,” he said.
He glanced at Alex and she burst out laughing.
“How much did you drink?” Alex asked.
“You took my second glass,” John said.
“The drinks were laced with X,” Alex said.
“No wonder I want to . . . ,” John glanced at her. He raised an eyebrow. “Right here. You wanna?”
“You’d better pull over,” she laughed.
“Could be fun,” he said.
“Trust me?”
“With my every breath,” he said.
“Pull over,” she said.
“Yes, sir,” he pulled the car over next to the chain link fence around the Cherry Creek Country Club golf course.
They switched places. Alex sat in the driver’s seat. She pushed in the clutch and moved through the gears.
“I’ve never driven . . . ,” Alex turned to look at him.
“I’m going to be sick,” he said.
He jumped out of the car and vomited through the chain link fence onto the pristine golf course. Alex called Max and then got out of the car. She rubbed his back while he threw up. He started to laugh.
“Wife swapping?” He laughed. “I took my beloved Alex to a wife-swapping party.”
She smiled at his laugh.
“Oh my God,” John laughed until he threw up again. “Did you hear that daft cow? ‘You can tag team me any day.’ Her fanny’s hanging out for the world to see. And his . . . How am I supposed to do surgery with the man again? Just disgusting.”
He threw up again.
“Are you paying those kids?” John asked.
“Double what they were to make tonight,” Alex said.
“Triple it,” John said. “God . . .”
He tried to throw up, but could only dry heave. She rubbed his back.
“Did you call Max?”
“He and Wyatt are on their way,” Alex said.
John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat down on the curb. Alex sat next to him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“When I think about it,” he said. “It makes sense. They talk about these naff parties quite a bit. And I . . . I just never pay any attention, because I knew we’d never go and . . . I should have known.”
“Can’t know what you don’t know,” Alex said. “Ever wonder why you don’t listen to him?”
“Honestly, he’s kind of a pervert,” John said.
“Yes, I got that,” Alex laughed.
John looked at her. He watched her laugh for a moment and then laughed.
“You’re not mad?” he asked.
Alex shook her head.
“Really?” he asked.
“I think we should agree to check out all party invitations,” Alex said. “We should actually read the invitation and listen to what they’re planning.”
They laughed.
“Oh look, it’s Max,” Alex said.
She pointed to their shared Lexus SUV. Wyatt waved from the driver’s seat.
“Wife swapping?” Max’s words were threatening, but his face showed that he’d laughed the whole way there. “You took my sister to a wife-swapping party?”
“I know!” John shook his head.
“I’ll take the car back,” Max said. “If you’re ready, we can just go.”
“Home?” John asked. “I need an aspirin and a vat of disinfectant spray.”
“Wife swapping, it’s so . . .” Max said.
“Gross,” John and Alex said together.
“Seventies,” Max laughed.
He patted John’s shoulder and went to the Audi. Alex helped John up and into the SUV. Max was on his way home by the time they were in the SUV. Wyatt drove to the rooming house. Max was waiting on the curb when they got there. He got into the back with Alex.
“What’s the plan?” John asked.
“Raz and I were going to stop in Paris on our way home,” Alex said. “But we got invited to dinner at the White House. Then it turns out that we need to go to a billion meetings while we’re in Paris. I thought we could fly to Paris tonight after the party and spend the weekend there. We have clothing in the apartment, so we can just go. Max and Wyatt are coming. Raz and Sami?”
“They left when we came to get you,” Wyatt said.
“We chartered a plane,” Alex said. “You’ll be back in time for rounds on Tuesday.”
John turned around in his seat to look at her.
“Unless you want to go swapping . . .” She gave him her crooked smile. “I’m sure Max and Wyatt would be welcome additions. You in Maxie?”
“No,” Max laughed.
“Drive on, my friend,” John said. “Drive on.”
Wyatt started the SUV and turned toward the airport.
F
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Saturday morning
November 13 – 5:47 a.m. PST (6:47 a.m. MST)
Pelican Bay, Crescent City, CA
It had only been a week, but Trece had the schedule down. The guard on his pod reached the first cell at 5:47 a.m. Trece would never have believed it, but the second he heard the guard at the end of the hall, he got up and stood next to his door. His entire being longed for human contact.
The guard never said a word to Trece. He just shoved the food through the slot and left the pod.
Like Pavlov’s stupid dogs, when Trece heard the squeaking wheels of the cart, he went to stand at the door.
“How’s it goin’?” A familiar voice drifted down the hall. “Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
The cart squeaked to the next cell.
“How’s it goin’?” the new guard asked. “Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
Squeak, squeak, pause . . . squeak, squeak, pause.
“How’s it goin’?” the new guard asked. “Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
Trece grinned, and the cart squeaked. He threaded his fingers through the holes in his door.
“How’s it goin’?” the new guard asked. “Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
The cart squeaked to the cell next door.
“Whatcha doin’ man?” the man in the cell next door asked. “You ain’t s’pposed to talk to us.”
“I must have missed that in the manual. Reading’s not my strong point,” the new guard said. Trece shook his head. Knowing what was coming next, he counted one, two, and three, “Don’t tell anyone, okay? This isn’t a great job, but it’s work, you know? I’ve got two little ones at home.”
“Sure man,” the prisoner next door said. “I feel ya.”
“Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
“Thanks man,” the prisoner next door said.
If the cart squeaked, Trece didn’t notice it. The cart came into view and there was . . . Trece staggered backward.
He’d expected to see his bleach-white friend with the white hair and pale eyes. Instead, there was a sort of brown man with brown hair, and brown eyes. Trece stepped away from the door.
The guard grinned at him and opened the slot. He put his hands through the hole.
Still suspicious, Trece didn’t respond. The new guard’s fingers folded over at the first knuckle, leaving only the middle finger on each hand pointing straight at him. Trece grinned at White Boy’s distinctive one finger salute. He reached through to hold his best friend’s hands. Moisture appeared in his eyes and on his face. White Boy held on.
“How’s it goin’?” White Boy asked. “Here’s breakfast, and your lunch is in the bag. Enjoy.”
White Boy pointed to the bag lunch and left the hallway. Trece smiled.
He had no idea how Alex had pulled that off. But the fact that White Boy was at Pelican Bay meant Trece was going to go home.
Maybe not today. But someday. He was going home someday.
Trece turned over
the bag lunch and dumped out the food. He turned the bag inside out and found a note. It was written by White Boy, but the words were pure Alex.
“We went to China to see the man from Texas get a bullet in his brain and happened to find your boss nearby. The boys and girls played with the SSG and found a fair maiden. A weekend of leave, and this guy wanted to spend it in prison. Takes all kinds. Miss you terribly. A”
Trece looked at the bag.
Dip the bag in bioweapon-laced toilet water, toss it in the trash, and out of the prison it goes.
Trece grinned.
He’d figured it out. Now, how would he let anyone know?
Hearing a noise, he turned to see White Boy standing right outside his cell. His best friend was standing underneath the security camera against a cement portion of his cell. Trece went to the door.
White Boy shook his head.
Trece went to sit on his bunk. He’d have to wait until his exercise hour to tell White Boy. Smiling to himself, he started his morning workout.
FFFFFF
Two days later
Monday night
November 15 – 9:23 p.m. CET (12:23 p.m. PST)
Paris, France
With her arms crossed, Alex stood at the sliding glass window of the apartment. Max had worked with an architect to design the condominiums over Le Fée Verte so that each condo had a balcony with an unobstructed view of the city. He’d saved the best view for their three-bedroom, three-bath condo at the top of the building. From their corner window, the entire city of Paris lit up in cold-rain-perfected glowing light.
“It’s a beautiful view,” Raz said.
She rotated to look at him. He slipped his hand around her and held her close.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“I’m all right,” she smiled and moved into the room. She picked up her half-empty wine glass and took a sip.
He held out his hand to her. She took it.
“I’ve noticed,” he said.
“Noticed what?” she smiled.
“You’ve withdrawn,” Raz said.
“I have?” She gave him a cold smile. “How so?”
“Really?” His eyebrows rose. “After all this time, I get the fuck-you smile and a ‘how so?’?”
Even to Alex, her smile felt plastered on her face.
“You’re with Sami now,” Alex said. “You know how much she hates it when we’re . . .”
“I see,” Raz said. “It’s about Samantha.”
He dropped her hand and turned away from her.
“How’s Jesse?” Raz asked.
“I don’t see him much anymore,” Alex said. “He’s busy with his family and . . .”
He spun in place to face her. In two quick steps, his hands were on her shoulders and his face an inch from hers.
“What is it?” he whispered.
She gave him a placid smile and tried to move away.
“Just tell me,” he whispered.
For the first time in months, she actually looked into his face. His forehead was lined with worry. His eyes pinched with concern.
“Tell me,” he said.
“They’re going to kill me,” she whispered.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“I can feel it deep down,” she said. “I don’t know how or why, but this time, they’re going to do it. I keep thinking . . . I’ll figure it out, but . . .”
She shook her head.
“So you’ve trained the team to replace you,” he said.
Alex nodded.
“And Matthew? Joseph? They say they haven’t spent any real time with you in months.”
“They’ll need to lead in my place,” Alex said.
“And me?” His voice made her heart wrench.
“I want you to be happy,” Alex said. “You and Sami are talking about having a baby. You will have her and . . .”
A tear drifted down Raz’s face.
“What happened?” his voice was no louder than a whisper, but she felt it like a punch.
Her eyes flitted across his face before she looked away.
“We’ve spent a thousand hours, at the very least, talking about Cee Cee Joiner,” Raz said. “He gets a bullet in his brain, and it’s off to the next thing. How many people did you kill in North Korea?”
“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged.
“That’s what I mean,” Raz said. “We’ve kept a running count since the day we met. Talked about each one. But now . . .”
“Maybe I’m over it,” Alex shrugged. “Like White Boy says, I’m a soldier, and soldiers kill people, you know.”
Raz’s mouth dropped open with surprise. He squeezed her shoulders and gave her a little shake.
“What happened?” Raz asked.
“When?” Alex shook her head and looked confused.
He pushed her away from him.
“Where is my Alex?” His voice rose with frustration. “Where is that impossibly wonderful woman who was brutally honest all the time, especially when you didn’t want her to be? What have you done with her?”
Alex watched him. She walked around him and back to the window. He followed her. She glanced back at him.
“I had a dream.”
Raz was so surprised that he didn’t know how to respond. She felt his eyes on the back of her head.
“What?” he finally asked.
“You won’t understand,” she said.
“Try me,” he said.
“I had this dream,” Alex said. “The night of Heath’s funeral.”
“Last year?” Raz’s voice rose with his confusion.
“Yes, last year,” Alex said. “It doesn’t matter.”
She moved to get around him. He grabbed her before she could escape.
“I’m sorry I worried you,” she smiled. “Can I go to bed now?”
“No,” he said.
“I’m really tired, and tomorrow is not going to be fun,” Alex said. “I’d like to get some sleep.”
“No,” he said. “You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Why?” Alex shrugged.
“Because I’m your partner,” he said. “And you don’t keep secrets from your partner.”
Alex groaned. He walked over to her wine glass and picked it up.
“Take this,” he said.
She took her wine glass. He got another wine glass from the cabinet and poured himself a glass. He emptied the bottle into her glass.
She sat down on the overstuffed, brown couch facing the wall of glass and the view of Paris. Last night, Alex and Max had taken turns winning hand after hand of poker from John, Raz, Wyatt, and Samantha on this couch. They’d played and laughed until almost dawn. They’d had to rush to get them to the airport and race across town for their meetings. He set his wine glass down and went to the closet.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said.
He gave her a rain jacket and put on his. He wrapped her in a long wool scarf and put one on himself.
“It’s never really Paris unless we’re drenched,” he said.
He slid open the glass door and waited for her. She went out on the balcony and sat in a wrought iron chair. He took the chair across from her. Closing her eyes, she relished the feeling of the hard rain pelting the top of her head. The water ran down her face. She felt almost feverish in comparison to the cold, wet bounty.
“Makes me crave chocolate crepes,” she said.
“Funny you should say that,” Raz said. “Le Fée Verte is still open.”
The absinthe bar on the bottom floor had transformed into a funky eatery that served liquor and crepes all night.
“Can we go later? I’m enjoying the rain.”
“Of course,” Raz said.
The rain poured down on them.
“Who talked to you?” Alex asked.
“Pretty much everyone,” Raz said. “Max told me that Jesse told him that you send him away from you. John thinks the only reason you’re interes
ted in surrogating a child is because you want to leave him with a piece of yourself.”
“Oh? He hasn’t said anything to me.”
“Have you given him a chance to?” Raz asked.
“Probably not.”
“Matthew said you’ve canceled the last four lunch dates you’ve set with him,” Raz said. “Joseph said he came to get you for the memorial, and you weren’t there. No one knew where you were.”
“I have a lot more meetings now,” Alex said.
He smiled.
“What?” Alex asked.
“Max said you would say that,” Raz said. “I remember a time when you didn’t go to meetings – just refused. You said there were better ways to masturbate.”
“It’s a Dave Berry quote,” Alex said.
“What is?”
“Meetings are an addictive, highly self-indulgent activity that corporations and other large organizations habitually engage in only because they cannot masturbate,” Alex said. “The wisdom of Dave Berry.”
“I see,” Raz said.
They fell into silence again. After a while, Raz got up, turned on the propane heater, and moved it over near them.
“Is there something about your sex life you’d like to tell me?” Raz asked.
“My sex life?” Alex asked.
“Meetings, masturbation,” Raz smiled.
Alex laughed.
“You had a dream?”
Alex took a deep breath. She held it for the briefest moment and let it go.
“I had a dream about being in a large sunflower field,” Alex shook her head. “It was more complicated than that.”
She glanced at him to see if he was listening. He nodded.
“It started, and I was on a huge battlefield, like World War I or the Spanish War or something,” Alex said. “I was spotting living soldiers and helping them to the medic tent.”
“Anyone you recognized?” Raz asked.
Alex turned to look at him. He nodded to encourage her to answer the question.
“No,” Alex said. “I was really focused on finding the living and bringing them to the medic tent one after the other.”
“Not even in the medics?” Raz asked. “Patients? Nurses?”
“No,” Alex shook her head. She shivered. “Boy, I suddenly got really cold. Would you mind . . . ?”
In the Grey Page 21