Play Dead

Gina released a long whistle. “Look around you, Graham. Do I look like the type who saves old phone bills?”

Laura’s eyes scanned the disheveled room and cluttered garbage cans. The answer was obvious.

“I need those phone bills.”

“My nephew works for the phone company in Cairns,” Gina said. “He’ll be in the office tomorrow. I’ll give him a call.”

They thanked her and left.

“What next?” Laura asked. “Do we go see the coroner?”

“Easier said than done.”

“What do you mean?”

The big sheriff opened the door for her. “The coroner who handled your husband’s case was not from around here.”

“He wasn’t?”

Graham shook his head. “He was flown in from a place called Townsville.”

STAN heard Gloria’s key in the lock. He quickly rose and moved toward the door. When she opened it, Stan grabbed her and kissed her passionately.

“Welcome home.”

Gloria beamed. “You certainly know how to greet somebody.”

He took her briefcase from her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Gloria enthused. “Mmmmm, what smells so good?”

Stan put the briefcase down and took her in his arms. “I did a little grocery shopping and decided to cook us dinner.”

“You made dinner,” she asked, “for me?”

He nodded. “So how was work?”

“Good, but busy. Laura was away.”

“Where did she go?”

Gloria shrugged. “I’m not sure. Estelle said she had some business to take care of somewhere and just decided to take off. What are you cooking in there? I’m starving.”

“Pasta primavera.”

“Mmmm. I love pasta,” she enthused.

“It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

Silently, Gloria took his hand in hers and led him onto the terrace. They sat on the love seat together, their fingers still intertwined. Gloria closed her eyes for a moment and rested her head on his chest. “I love this,” she said.

“What?”

“Everything about us. I’ve never been so happy.”

Stan gripped her hand. “I feel the same.”

They sat back and just watched the Charles River. More than anything else about his relationship with Gloria, this part amazed Stan the most. They could just sit together without speaking, just enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t make any sense to him. Gloria was different from any woman he had ever known. She did not ramble on incessantly, trying to say something “meaningful” or “deep.” She did not pester him about not finding a job yet. She never even mentioned the one hundred thousand dollars he owed her. Gloria was content just to be with him. She demanded nothing of him, and as a result, he gave her more than he had ever given to a woman.

A few minutes later, Stan rose to get dinner ready. Gloria followed him into the kitchen. “Laura left us a message,” she began.

I bet, Stan thought. “Oh?”

“The Celtics are retiring David’s number at the Boston Garden Saturday night. It’s the opening game of the new season. She said she’d appreciate it if we were both there.”

“Both of us?”

Gloria nodded. “You were his brother. I know you and Laura don’t see eye to eye yet, but she’ll come around.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“I’d like to go, Stan. I think it’s important that we’re both there.”

Stan sprinkled a little Parmesan cheese over the pasta. “Okay,” he said. “Tell your sister we would be honored to attend.”

“My parents will be there, too. So will my aunt. It’ll be a nice opportunity for you to meet them all.”

“I’d like that,” he said.

Gloria lit the candles and dimmed the lights. Stan watched her move about the room. Though he would never admit it to himself, he loved to watch her move, loved to watch everything she did. She was so goddamn kind and gentle that sometimes he wondered what she was truly up to. What was her angle on all this? What was she after? What did she want from him? Was her tenderness nothing but an unfamiliar ploy to lull him into an unprepared state—a state in which she could get her hooks into him and take control?

Maybe.

But more important, what the hell was he doing? What was his angle? What did he want from Gloria? Laura had hit a raw nerve when she’d asked him about that. The truth was, he was no longer sure what he was doing. He could score big bucks—major, major bucks—and hightail his ass out of here. He could score like he had never scored before and disappear into the sunset. But for some strange reason, he stayed. He was out of money with the perfect opportunity to get his hands on plenty, but he chose not to.

Why?

What the hell was wrong with him? He should have dumped her already. He should have squeezed out every last dollar and been on his way, crushing Gloria’s fragile spirit, leaving her crying or worse. But no, he had decided to stay around a while.

The phone interrupted their dinner. “I’ll get it,” Gloria said.

“No, it’s probably for me,” Stan said. “I’ll just take it in the bedroom.”

Stan stood and moved into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He knew who was on the other end of the connection. Dread filled him. He swallowed and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Stan, my man, how are you?”

Stan recognized the voice instantly. His face sunk. “Hello, B Man.”

“Is that how you greet a good friend?” B Man asked. “I’m insulted, Stan. Really I am.”

“We’re in the middle of dinner.”

“Oh, how sweet,” he said. “How perfectly domestic of you. I’m really impressed, Stan. What are you going to do after you eat, go out back and mow the lawn?”

Stan closed his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” B Man said. “That’s why I was calling you. Your contact tells me you haven’t placed a bet in three days.”

“So?”

“So you’re only two thousand down,” B Man continued. “I usually don’t cut you off until you reach the forty-thousand mark.”

“I just haven’t seen anything I’ve liked lately.”

“Save it, Stan,” the blond bookie snarled. “This is the B Man you’re talking to. You haven’t missed a day of betting in ten years.”