her hair up, so I had never noticed how perfect her ears were. Or maybe I had. Maybe in the fog of the past couple of years, I’d always known how beautiful Susan Solie was but had simply shut my mind to it, and all the trauma of the past few days had thrown open that door.
“I knew you’d be down here in your dungeon,” she said, rubbing her arms. “I don’t know how you stand it. It’s freezing!”
“It’s easier to sleep at low temperatures,” I said.
“Come here,” she said. “I want to show you something cute.”
I followed her to the laundry room, where she pointed out the window. Angelica was sitting on a picnic table by the edge of the woods; Vinny was in his wheelchair on the other side. Vinny was describing something, maybe a scene from his past, pantomiming throwing open a door, pointing a pistol. Angelica’s face had an unfamiliar expression—rapture and intrigue. She was actually laughing at the story.
“Man,” I said. “Are those two interested in each other?”
“I don’t know, but I’m glad to see her smiling. She can’t write with her right arm in a sling and her left finger broken, and she’s been totally miserable, like she’s being starved or something.” Susan grinned. “The two of them? It’s crazy,” she said, watching the couple. “But it could be great.”
In the closeness of the laundry room, both of us leaning toward the window, I could feel Susan’s body beside mine, the warmth of her hand by my thigh. I was struck by the same feeling I’d had on the beach, as if I were enclosed in a protective sphere, sealed off from the chaos of the world. My mind was twitching with temptations. I suddenly wanted to drag her to me, squeeze her, push her against the wall. I wanted to lie in bed with her and tell her everything—how lonely I felt in the dark hours without Siobhan beside me and how guilty I felt when I looked at Susan and hope and happiness flooded through me. I wanted to let it all go and admit to Susan that I liked her and that I didn’t know what that meant. The two of us—it would be crazy. But I wanted to know if she thought it could be great. I was just about to ask her if she was still thinking about that kiss on the beach when I heard Doc Simeon clearing his throat behind us.
“Can I have a word with you, Bill?” he asked. Susan left us, and the doctor put his hands in the pockets of his immaculately ironed slacks, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“I work for Cline,” he said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
“YOU …” I SHOOK my head, tried to clear my mind. “You what?”
The old man walked past me and out onto the porch. I followed, and we sat together on the wicker chairs there, his back bowed as though under the weight of his confession.
“I’ve been retired for eighteen years,” he said, staring down at his wrinkled hands. “That’s a long time to feel like you have no purpose. Sure, it was my decision to retire. I couldn’t keep up with all the new developments and the paperwork, and sometimes people would come to me with problems and my mind would just go blank. I’d have to look up treatments in medical journals. It wasn’t right. But I’ve had nothing to work for in my life for so long now. No dreams. I went into a real depression maybe a year back and for a long time I wasn’t able to shake it. I used to watch the clock all day just waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed.”
Vinny and Angelica had disappeared from the picnic table in the distance. The wind had risen, and the pines by the water stirred as the doctor talked.
“Mitchell Cline and his guys approached me at the town library,” he said. He laughed a little bitterly. “I think perhaps they were prepared to threaten me. But they didn’t need to. I accepted their offer. I was happy to do it.”
“What do you do for them?” I asked.
“I write prescriptions for painkillers,” he said. “Though I’m retired, my DEA license is still active. That’s an identifier that the pharmacies need to distribute controlled substances, and the Drug Enforcement Administration uses it to keep an eye on narcotic prescriptions. Cline probably has plenty of physicians and pharmacists