it's all right."
"Of course it is, Lucy."
George Reinnike vanished, and the world was at peace.
Lucy Chenier saw the gun, and looked away. When we were first together, she would have made a joke, but now the gun represented the violence that drove her away. I hadn't spoken to Lucy in weeks. I hadn't seen her in almost two months.
I unclipped the holster from beneath my shirt, seated the gun, then put it out of sight above the refrigerator.
"I've had a problem with mice."
Her lip curled in a forgiving smile. She wore a fall-orange turtle-neck sweater over jeans, the sweater perfect for her golden skin and auburn hair. The best color money could buy, she liked to joke.
She said, "Here, I brought you a Care package."
Two bricks of Community Coffee Dark Roast, two bags of Camellia red beans, and a six-pack of Abita beer were on the dining table. Baton Rouge staples. It couldn't have been easy, bringing all that from Louisiana. I took her effort as a good sign.
"CC Dark-this is great, Lucy. Thanks."
"I hope you don't mind my being here like this. Joe said you were on your way home, so I let myself in."
"C'mon, you know better than that. This is a great surprise. What are you doing in L.A.? How's Ben?"
Nothing in her body language warned me away, so I gave her a polite kiss, then stepped back to let her know I respected the boundaries she had imposed. Her lips smelled of raspberries.
"Ben's doing really really well. You're the class hero, you know-everyone at school has to hear about Elvis Cole."
I laughed, but only because she expected me to be pleased. Picturing Ben Chenier telling his ten-year-old buddies about me caused an ache in my chest. I wanted to tell her how much I missed them, but I didn't want to make either of us feel guilty. I changed the subject instead.
"Hey, would you like a drink? You want something to eat?"
"Yes to both, but let me see your hand. How is it healing?"
She turned my right hand palm up to inspect the puckered scar that sliced across three fingers and part of the palm. I had been cut when it went down with Ben. Forty-two stitches and two surgeries, but they said I would be ninety-five percent, no problem. So long as I didn't mind chronic pain.
"It's fine. They put in bionic motors and steel cables-I'm like the Terminator now, me and the governor."
She studied the scar, then folded my fingers, and gave back my hand. She pushed out a smile we both knew was fake.
"How about that drink?"
"Coming up."
She had flown out to meet with the prosecutors about Ben's part in his father's trial. Though I had been cut, Richard had been shot, and almost died. He probably would have been happier if he had. Richard Chenier had hired three mercenaries to kidnap his son, and five people had died before it was over. Richard had not personally pulled a trigger, but because he had set the kidnapping in motion, he was an accessory before the fact and a de facto accomplice. Under California law, Richard could be and was charged with the murders. He currently resided at the County-USC Medical Center, where he awaited more surgeries and, eventually, the trial. Lucy told me as she sipped her drink.
"The judge agreed to hear Ben's testimony on videotape, but I wanted to be sure they understand that's as far as I'll go. I will not bring him to court, and I will not allow him to take the stand."
"Why doesn't Richard save everyone the trouble and plead out? That would be easier for Ben."
She had more of her drink.
"This is part of the process. He's facing two first-degree counts and three in the second, but his lawyers want a reduction to negligent homicide on the firsts and a pass on the rest."
Lucy stared at nothing for a moment, then sipped again and shrugged.
"They'll probably end up at two counts of manslaughter if they can agree on the sentence. Richard has to do time. I'm sorry he was hurt, but he has to pay for this."
She finished her drink with a tinkle of ice, then looked at the glass as if its being empty was just another of life's inevitable disappointments.
She said, "You know what? I'm tired of being nice. I'm only sorry for Ben and what this is doing to him. Richard deserved everything that happened to him."
I reached for the glass.
"Here. I'll make another."
She