have the chance, since she’ll be back in Wisconsin in three days.
“How long will Marcus need?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t think very long.”
We start walking back across the baseball field. “So this is the scene of your greatest imaginary athletic accomplishments?” she asks.
“Yup,” I say. “Right over there is where I didn’t hit the game-winning home run against Clifton. And the very spot we’re standing on is where I didn’t make a diving catch to beat Garfield.”
“You must be very proud.”
I nod. “I am. But as great as those fake moments were, I never dreamed that one day I’d be back here with a big ugly guy facedown and bleeding on the hood of my car, with my girlfriend here to protect me. You can’t see it in the dark, but my eyes are filled with tears.”
We head back to the car, and Laurie wisely calls out so that Marcus will know it’s us. Suddenly the lights go on in the car, and we can see that Marcus has turned them on. Windshield Man is sitting on the curb, in front of the car. The headlights are shining right at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
He looks thoroughly dejected and defeated. Marcus can do that to you.
Laurie asks Marcus to bring us up to date on what he has learned. Bringing up to date is not Marcus’s strong point; he’s not the most communicative guy in the world. But Laurie is better at drawing him out than I am, and before I know it, one- and two-syllable words are pouring out of him.
Windshield Man is a low-level member of the Dominic Petrone organization. Petrone is a charming, intelligent man who just happens to control the most powerful crime family in New Jersey. I have had dealings with Petrone in the past; we have even helped each other on a number of occasions. It is not something I’ve been comfortable with, mainly because there’s always a chance that he will get annoyed and have me killed.
Windshield Man has been assigned to keep an eye on me and report back on my actions. Marcus is positive that he was not sent to do me harm, and Marcus’s instincts in the area of doing harm are usually quite accurate.
This conversation is conducted within earshot of Windshield Man, who seems to show no interest in it at all. He perks up a bit when Marcus inquires what I would like to do with him. The way he asks the question, I assume my options range from letting him go to dumping his dismembered body in the river.
I opt for letting him go, after Marcus and Laurie assure me that he will not go back and accurately report what has happened to his mob bosses. To do so would not be good for his job security, or his life expectancy.
We send Windshield Man walking off into the darkness. “I’m gonna miss his wit,” I say. Laurie and I get into the car to leave, and Marcus declines a ride. I have no idea how he got here, but he’s clearly going back the same way.
It’s only a five-minute ride home, and Laurie and I talk about the situation while taking Tara and Reggie for their nightly walk.
“The list of things I don’t understand keeps getting longer,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for instance, let’s assume Petrone sent someone to kill me on the highway. Why would he then have Windshield Man just watching me? What have I done in the last two weeks that could have changed Petrone’s mind about killing me?”
“I don’t think you can make that assumption. Maybe it wasn’t Petrone who sent the shooter on the highway,” she says.
“You think there are other crime bosses out there sending hoods out after me? Maybe there’s a competition to see who can kill me first.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. But while it’s obvious that Petrone has an interest in this, he clearly isn’t the only one.”
“Keep going…,” I prompt.
“Well, there’s whoever planted the tap on your phone. Whether it’s some secret government agency or just someone with access to their equipment, it wasn’t Petrone. And don’t forget, there is also the person who murdered Stacy Harriman.”
“That could be Petrone,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so—it’s not his style.”
“To set it up to look like a murder-suicide? If he was doing it so that he could get Richard out of the way, so he could smuggle something into the country, that was