You really do think Im going to throw you to the wolves, dont you?
Oh, I like wolves, I said, its the reporters that scare me.
Gray Suit said, I dont think theres any way to get you quietly to the hospital. In fact, we should send people ahead to warn the hospital so the reporters dont get into Mr. Schuylers room.
Good thinking, Peterson, as always. Call our liaison at the hospital.
Peterson, aka Gray Suit, took out a cell phone and went toward one side of the room. Apparently for some privacy for the call.
Another phone sounded. Dubois got a slim one out of her pocket and started talking into it.
Chuck said, Youre a federal marshal, for real?
For real, I said.
He looked me up and down, not like a man will, but like he was sizing me up for other things. Things that had nothing to do with sex.
Youve got a gun at the small of your back. Its lying sideways, not up and down, so its almost invisible.
I nodded. And you missed it completely when we first met.
My bad, he said.
Sloppy, I said.
It wont happen again.
What wont happen again?
Me thinking youre just agirlfriend.
You always hesitate before you say girlfriend, Chuck; what do you actually start to say?
You wont like it.
Im betting I already know the phrase thats on the tip of your tongue, Chuck.
Jason was watching us, the way he did sometimes when people were doing something that interested him or puzzled him. Hed watch, file it away, and talk to me about it later. Sometimes much later.
Chuck glanced around, and when he realized that both Dubois and Peterson werent in earshot, he said low, Piece of ass, I wont make the mistake of thinking youre just a piece of ass.
I nodded. Yeah, thats what I thought you were thinking.
Chapter Fifteen
WE ARRIVED AT the hospital in a style that even Jean-Claude couldnt have managed. The city wouldnt have given him a police escort unless he was being arrested. But we got one to St. Josephs Hospital, with its nearly brand-new trauma unit. The trauma unit was in the Summerland wing of the hospital. I smelled an amazingly large donation.
It took us awhile to get past the upper brass of the hospital, who had spilled out to the sound of sirens and the limo. Hell, we had some of the suits with us. Peterson was in charge instead of Chuck, which was a step up, but it was still an understandable mistake on the hospital administrations part. If someone had given me enough money to put a wing on my hospital Id be nice to them, too.
In the lobby, while we were trying to explain that Jason was neither of the Summerland twins, I saw a portrait. It was an old-fashioned painting of a man in a black cloth suit, white shirt, stiff collar, and dark yellow mustache. But underneath the strange clothes and facial hair, it was Jasons face.
I actually walked toward the portrait without meaning to. Jasons blue eyes stared down at me from this stern-faced stranger.
Jason came to stand beside me. I looked from him to the painting. Creepy, isnt it? he said.
It could be you in a few years, if you did the mustache.
Meet Jedediah Summerland. He was the head of the religious community that came here to get away from the worldly temptations. He was a very self-righteous guy, but strangely a lot of families that trace their ancestors back to when he was alive have a lot of kids that look eerily like him.