Rough Weather - By Robert B. Parker Page 0,5

leave this alone,” she said. “Can you?”

“No,” I said.

“I understand,” she said.

“I know you do.”

“It was the gun,” she said. “Seeing you put on the gun.”

“I always wear a gun,” I said.

“I know.”

“We need to get going,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

We stood for a bit longer with our arms around each other, while the rain became more frequent against the big window. Then Susan stepped back and looked at me and smiled.

“Here we go,” she said. “Let me just check the mirror that having a mini-breakdown hasn’t messed up my look.”

“Nothing could,” I said.

She walked to a full-length mirror at the end of the hall and studied herself for a moment.

“You know?” she said. “You’re right.”

7

As we walked the long corridor toward the chapel, I could hear the faint sound of a helicopter landing on the pad behind the house on the south side of the island. A helicopter is like a tank. Once you’ve heard one, you always remember.

“Late,” I said to Susan.

“What?”

“Chopper,” I said. “Lucky they got down before the storm starts to rumba.”

“You think the storm will get worse?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even hear the helicopter,” Susan said.

“That’s because you’re focused on me in my tux,” I said.

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always listening, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Sometimes I peek,” I said.

She looked at me sideways as we walked.

“I’m aware of that,” she said.

Behind us, lightning spilled briefly into the hall through the big French doors. A few seconds later there was a grumble of thunder.

“Storm’s still a ways off,” I said.

“Something about the time between the lightning and the thunder?” Susan said.

“Lightning’s traveling at the speed of light,” I said. “Thunder’s coming at the speed of sound. The closer they are, the more they coincide.”

“My God, Holmes,” Susan said in her lowest voice. “Is there no limit to your knowledge?”

“I’ve never quite been able to answer, ‘What does a woman want?’”

Susan smiled and banged my shoulder lightly with her head. In a small anteroom to the former library, Heidi and her daughter stood with Maggie Lane. With them was the famous conductor with the tan and the silver hair. Heidi was in her imperious mode. She introduced us quite formally. Actually, she introduced me, and I introduced Susan. Did Susan not notice? . . . Fat chance!

Adelaide was in full wedding dress, except there was no train. Probably couldn’t find train carriers. She had a small face, which looked even smaller because she had so much red hair insufficiently contained by her veil.

“Adelaide’s father chose not to attend,” Heidi said. “Leopold will be taking Adelaide down the aisle.”

“Okay,” I said.

“You’ll wait here with us, Mr. Spenser,” Heidi said. “Dr. Silverman, an usher will take you to the first row on the right. Mr. Spenser will join you. Please sit at the far end, near the wall.”

“Okay,” I said.

I was in my docile mode. Susan winked at me and followed the usher out of the anteroom. Through the window behind me, lightning flashed again. And not very long after, the thunder grumbled. No one paid any attention.

“You’ll be the last to enter the room, Mr. Spenser, after Leopold has delivered Adelaide to her husband. Please try to be unobtrusive.”

“On little cat’s feet,” I said.

I doubt that Heidi even heard me.

“Mo-th-er,” Adelaide said, making it into several syllables. “Everyone’s here. It’s time to start.”

Heidi was nodding absently. The anteroom door had a small peephole in it that allowed you to see into the chapel. Heidi appeared to be counting the house.

“Why does the library door have a peephole?” I said. “Keep people from stealing the books?”

“When it was built it was thought to add a secretive medieval quality,” Maggie Lane said.

I nodded. I could hear the string ensemble playing appropriate music as the guests were escorted in.

After a time, Heidi said, “All right, I’ll go.”

She looked at her daughter.

“Let me get seated before you and Leopold begin,” Heidi said. “Just like we rehearsed. Maggie, don’t let them start too soon.”

“Mo-th-er . . .” Adelaide said.

Heidi smiled and stepped away from the peephole. Heidi leaned forward and kissed her daughter, carefully, no messing up the look.

“It’ll be perfect,” she said to Adelaide.

She put her hand on Adelaide’s cheek for a moment. Then she turned and went out the other anteroom door into the hall. I took her place peeking through the door, and watched her appear a moment later at the double doors to the chapel. She came down the aisle alone, the mother of the bride, like a queen at her