Deadline for Lenny Stern, Peter Marabell [sneezy the snowman read aloud .TXT] 📗

you go to the office in the morning?”

“He’s going home with me,” AJ said. “He’ll be in your office in the morning if you need him.”

“Okay. Russo, you take care,” Fleener said, and walked away.

“Will you follow us to my house?” AJ said to Henri.

“Better than that, we’ll put him in my car, meet you there.”

“You’ll come get him in the morning?”

Henri nodded.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I said.

“You need somebody,” AJ said. Then to Henri, “You had to go to the island?”

“It’s late, AJ,” Henri said, letting the question slide. “Let’s get the two of you home.”

Without another word, AJ turned and walked out.

Henri looked over at me. “I’ll find a nurse, get you out of here. Meet you outside.”

A nurse I had not met arrived with a wheelchair and put me in it. I was more unstable than I imagined, just getting into the chair. A slow elevator ride later, an awkward climb into Henri’s SUV, and we were off to AJ’s.

Henri pulled into the driveway at AJ’s house and stopped at the side door. She was waiting for us.

“To the guestroom,” AJ said, and the two of them clumsily got me into the house and upstairs, dropping me unceremoniously on the bed.

“What time?” Henri said.

“I’ll let you know,” AJ said. “Not early.”

“See you tomorrow,” Henri said, and went downstairs.

AJ sat on the side of the bed. Tears glistened around the corners of her eyes.

“This isn’t good, Michael.”

45

“Would you like more coffee?” AJ said.

I sat on a long, slatted teak bench in the shade of the front porch. I vaguely remembered arriving at her house last night.

“Please,” I said, and watched her add to my mug. She smiled, easily. The edge on her face had disappeared overnight.

“Is it really almost eleven?”

“Yep. By the time I dragged you out of the tub and tucked you in bed, it was late.”

I awkwardly rearranged myself on the bench, sipping coffee.

“How’re the ribs this morning?” AJ put the carafe on a side table and sat down.

“That ER doc was right, pretty sore. I think the hot water helped.”“You can do that again this afternoon.”

“I just might.”

I noticed her paint-stained running shorts, loosely hanging T-shirt, and bare feet. “Aren’t you late for work?”

She shrugged. “I talked to Maury. They can lose me for a day. There’s more coffee cake, want another piece?”

I shook my head. “I need to think about getting to the office. You heard from Henri?”

“He’ll be along, but you’re not leaving the porch quite yet.”

“Why is that?” I said. “Just curious.”

“Marty Fleener’s on his way. Should be here any minute.”

“Did he say why?”

“Because you’re here. He told me to see that you stayed put until he got here.”

I drank some coffee and set the mug down.

AJ took my hand, leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. You were upset last night, I think. Hard to remember.”

“Upset and angry, Michael.”

“Angry at me?”

“Of course, at you.”

We slid from the easy comfort of coffee together into something else. The teak bench felt longer.

“At you, at me. I don’t like being scared.”

Her soft smile had faded into … not sure what it was. Anguish? It didn’t feel like being irritated or annoyed. It almost felt like impatience.

“I don’t know how to deal with it … how … to. . .”

“Maybe it has to run its course.”

“You mean get used to it? That’s easier said than done. Sometimes I think … is that Marty’s car?” AJ said, pointing up Bay Street.

A black sedan moved toward our end of the block, going faster than it should have in a residential area. It stopped at the curb in front of the house, on the wrong side of the street.

Marty Fleener swung both legs out of the car, put his feet to the ground, and pushed himself up. He came up the front walk, slowly.

“You got any more of that coffee?” he asked, pointing at AJ’s mug.

“Just made a fresh pot,” she said. “You look tired.”

“I am tired. Mind if I sit?”

“Sit here,” AJ said. “I’ll get your coffee.”

Fleener took off his suit jacket, put it over the porch railing, and dropped himself on the bench. He loosened his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Morning.”

AJ returned, handed Fleener a mug, and sat next to him.

“Thanks,” he said, and drank some.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” AJ said.

“That’s because I haven’t slept.”

“Would you like some coffee cake? Made this morning.”

“No, thanks. I don’t want to encourage my stomach to expect food on a regular schedule.”

“You haven’t slept all night, and you’re doing sarcasm?” I said.

Fleener took a breath and drank more coffee.

“We picked up Sam Dexter around four o’clock this morning.”

“You found a judge to give you a warrant in the middle of the night?”

“Called in a favor.”

“How about Hendricks? He know about this?”

Fleener almost laughed. “First one I called. Got him out of bed.”

“My ID at the hospital was enough then?”

Fleener nodded. “Hendricks said, and I quote, ‘If Russo’s messing with me, I will fuck with him for the rest of his life.’”

“What about Dexter?”

Fleener turned to me. “You sure you aren’t screwing around with your ID?”

“Man stands three feet away, gives me shot after shot while his buddies hold me down — yeah. I don’t get it wrong. Now what about Dexter? When do you sit him in the room?”

“Done.”

“Seriously?” I said.

Fleener nodded.

“He have a lawyer?”

“Court-appointed.”

“In the middle of the night?” AJ said.

“Called in another favor,” Fleener said. “Mind if I have some more coffee?”

AJ refilled Fleener’s mug. “Thanks.” He drank some and said, “We scared the liver out of the guy, had him believing we thought he was the next worst thing to a Mexican drug kingpin.”

“He say anything about Sylvia Cavendish?”

“Gave her up,” Fleener said. “She’s been supplying drugs to Dexter and his roommate, Jarvis, Ben Jarvis. They made a few bucks selling stuff to their Carp Lake pals.”

“Did you talk about Kate Hubbell?”

“Not a word, nothing about Stern or you either. Nothing.” Fleener smiled. “We’re