Authors: Patricia Cornwell
Flesh and Blood (47 page)
“Katie?” When she calls me that I know it’s coming. “Dorothy is happy to keep Desi and I think it’s a better idea than him being around all these women. It’s nice to have a man. A boy needs the influence of a man.”
Dorothy, Lucy’s mother, my only sister, isn’t here of course. I’m not sure she even understands exactly what has happened. She knows I was hurt. She did ask if I’d be able to wear shorts again.
“Great idea, Grans,” Lucy says as she lowers Desi to the floor, and his cheeks are an excited rosy red. “She did such an amazing job with me and there were so many men I can’t remember them.”
“That’s not nice, Lucy.” My mother rolls closer to her, and if it’s one thing I’ve learned from witnessing all this night after night is I’ll never use a walker as a weapon. “You should be ashamed of yourself wearing no more clothes than that. Those skintight shorts are indecent. Are you wearing a bra?”
Lucy pretends she’s going to lift her shirt to check and Marino guffaws.
“Are you ready to go home, Mother? Marino is happy to take you.”
“Well all right then. That’s only the third time everyone has asked. I know when I’m not wanted. I don’t know why you even bother having me over.” She slides her feet, rolling her walker to the door where Marino can’t wait to open it for her.
“Come on, Grans. I’m your chauffeur. I hope you don’t expect me to wear one of those fucking prissy caps.”
“I’ll wash your mouth out …!”
“I’ve heard you do your share of cussing.” He holds the door for her, and then they’re in the entranceway and he pushes the elevator button.
Sock has gotten up and is cowering. My walker scares him.
“I don’t even know such filthy words as that,” my mother says.
“Then how’d you know what it was? See? That’s why I’m such a good detective.”
I wait until they’re gone before I shut the door, and Lucy and Janet tell Desi it’s time for him to brush his teeth. He bolts over and hugs me. He stares up at Benton rather dubiously.
“Good night, Mister Bentley,” he says. “I’m going to be an FBI agent someday.”
They head down the hall.
“I think we should take the rest of the wine to bed, Mister Bentley.” I push the walker and envision my mother pushing hers.
I start laughing. I laugh so hard I can’t go anywhere quite yet. Then Benton helps me down the hall to the master suite, where the slider is open all the way, the warm breeze blowing in. A huge moon is low and reflected in the swells of the waves. Boats are out. Some of them like small cities on the water. Lights wink red and white on distant planes flying in and out of Miami. I listen to the rhythm of the surf. It sighs loudly and sounds like breathing. Sock cowers again when I park the walker out of the way. He flattens himself on the floor.
“Oh I’m not going to hurt you for crummy sake. Don’t be so dramatic,” I say to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better,” I say to Benton as I lower myself to the bed and Sock jumps up.
Benton unbuttons his shirt, arranging pillows behind me as if I’m back where I started, in the double lounger again.
“I’m ashamed I didn’t,” I say to him. “No matter what you say the fact is she was right there and I let her get the best of me.”
“You didn’t. You sliced open her face and probably saved both of us.” He says the same thing as he sits next to me in his boxer shorts. “You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever known. And you don’t panic. You didn’t and that’s the difference between you and almost everybody else. Don’t ever forget it.”
“I didn’t fix it. Nothing’s fixed, Benton.”
“We never fixed it. No one did. It’s not just you. Maybe we never fix anything. I don’t know what’s gotten into Sock tonight. He’s sticking to me like shrink wrap.”
“Probably because Lucy was horsing around like she’s ten years old again. Sock isn’t used to so much commotion. He’s used to being around two stick-in-the-muds. I won’t mention names.”
“I love you, Kay.”
I reach for the lamp. I switch it off and I hear it.
SNAP
Patricia Cornwell is recognized as one of the world’s top bestselling crime authors with novels translated into thirty-six languages in more than 120 countries. Her novels have won numerous prestigious awards including the Edgar, Creasey, Anthony, Macavity, and the French Prix du Roman d’Aventure prize. Beyond the Scarpetta series, Patricia has written a definitive book about Jack the Ripper and a biography and has created two more fiction series among others. Cornwell, a licensed helicopter pilot and scuba diver, actively researches the cutting-edge forensic technologies that inform her work. She was born in Miami, grew up in Montreat, NC, and now lives and works in Boston.
Dust
The Bone Bed
Red Mist
Port Mortuary
The Scarpetta Factor
Scarpetta
Book of the Dead
Predator
Trace
Blow Fly
The Last Precinct
Black Notice
Point of Origin
Unnatural Exposure
Cause of Death
From Potter’s Field
The Body Farm
Cruel and Unusual
All That Remains
Body of Evidence
Postmortem
Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper—Case Closed
Isle of Dogs
Southern Cross
Hornet’s Nest
The Front
At Risk
Ruth, A Portrait: The Story of Ruth Bell Graham
Food to Die For: Secrets from Kay Scarpetta’s Kitchen
Life’s Little Fable
Scarpetta’s Winter Table
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