Authors: James Patterson and Maxine Paetro
“Some grapefruit peel, too. Thought I’d mix it up a little for you.”
Rich approached the bed, put his
left hand on the rail at the far side and rested his weight on it. He leaned over, pressed his cheek to hers, then gave her a soft cheek kiss.
Cindy breathed him in.
He stood up and handed her the bag of candy, which she held in her lap. Then he pulled up the chair Lindsay had been sitting in.
“Thanks, Richie.”
He sat down and said, “Welcome. How are you doing?”
“Pretty good. The shot missed
the bone, missed the artery. I think it’s what they call in cowboy movies, ‘just a flesh wound.’” She grinned. She had rarely felt better.
“You been drinking?”
She kept grinning, nodded her head. “Dr. Washburn’s orders.”
Richie laughed.
“So, are you in a lot of pain?”
“Not too much. I can take it. They’re checking me out in a couple of days or maybe tomorrow. Made me promise to take Cindy’s
Flower Shop with me.”
Cindy wanted him to touch her again. She could still feel his whiskers against her cheek.
He said, “Well, anyway, did you get your story, at least?”
“Hell, no. Lindsay killed it.”
“Uh-huh.” He laughed, like it wasn’t right to laugh but he couldn’t help it.
“There’s a story there, anyway,” she said. “It’s not the
one I had planned, but Mackie, Lindsay, and me, intersecting
in that way at that place and with that result. I can do a lot with that. I could do a lot with
half
of that.”
Richie sighed. Leaned back in the chair. Ran his hands through his hair.
“What is it, Rich?”
She knew what. There had been guns and shooting and death. And she wasn’t a cop. And as they both knew full well, she’d never shot a gun off the range.
“That deal could have gone so wrong,
Cindy, in so many ways. I don’t like to think about it, but I do.”
“Me, too.”
He sighed, giving her a long, steady look. Cindy thought he was trying to convey to her what exactly she’d done, what she’d been through. And that she’d been lucky.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said at last.
She felt that. Her eyes watered just a little. She kept it together by gripping that white bag of candied citrus
peel.
“Thanks, Richie.”
He said, “I’m glad Lindsay is okay.”
“I know. Me, too.”
“I love you both.”
Cindy watched his cheeks color. He cleared his throat. Then he looked at his watch. Oh, no. He just got here.
Richie said, “Hey, the game is on in a little while. Uh. You want me to keep you company and we’ll watch the Niners kill the Seahawks?”
Cindy laughed. “That’s the best offer I’ve had
since I got here.”
“I’ll go out and get a pizza. Okay?”
“Excellent.”
“Mushrooms and sausage.”
“Perfect.”
Richie stood up, pointed to the chair, and said, “Keep my seat warm. I’ll be right back.”
When Richie was gone, Cindy opened the bag of candy and bit into a chocolate-covered orange peel. Delicious.
She rolled down the top of the bag and held it for a while, thinking about Lake Street.
About Richie. About how she was very much alive.
Hey. It would be really fun to do something with Richie again.
Cindy put the white paper bag on the table by the bed, grabbed the clicker, and turned on the TV.
Our thanks and gratitude to these top professionals who were so generous with their time and expertise: Captain Richard Conklin, Stamford Connecticut Police Department; Dr. Humphrey Germaniuk, medical examiner and coroner, Trumbull County, Ohio; attorneys Philip R. Hoffman and Steven A. Rabinowitz, New York City; Chuck Hanni, IAAI-CFI, and forensic science consultant Elaine M.
Pagliaro, MS, JD. And special thanks to Donna Nincic, Director, ABS School of Maritime Policy and Management, Professor, California Maritime Academy.
We are grateful to our researchers, Ingrid Taylar and Lynn Colomello, and to Mary Jordan, who keeps it all together.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781448108534
Published by Century, 2014
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Copyright © James Patterson, 2014
James Patterson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Century
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
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The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Hardback ISBN 9781780890319
Trade paperback ISBN 9781780890326