Snickering, the head of Patten Securities rises and downs his draft. “I’m off to the office, I’ll call you if I find anything.”
He strides out the door, leaving me, my solicitor, and a couple sparrows fighting over breadcrumbs.
Sighing, Andy stands as well. “I guess I should go ask my wife if she’s pregnant.”
“Whoa, there. I don’t mean to tell you your business but a woman’s got to do this in her own way and in her own time. What if she don’t want you to know yet? Maybe there’s a reason?”
“You sayin’ she cheated?” His fists clench, about to clobber me.
“Dude. Slow down. She loves you, man, more than life itself.”
“Then why would you say such a thing?”
“Fuck if I understand the female species. You tell me.” Maybe he’ll share some insight into why Sam won’t ’fess up.
He shakes his head. “Women overthink everything. I read once they think about a hundred thoughts to our one, even when making love.”
I chuckle. “Not mine. I don’t leave no room for thinkin’.”
Andy laughs. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an arrogant bastard?”
“Fuck you very much.” I walk with him back inside and he pays our tab.
On the sidewalk, he continues with his dissertation on the opposite sex. “So, back to what I was saying. For example, a man might wake on a sunny spring day and think, summer’s coming. In the same instant, a woman would be like, I got to lose weight, buy a bathing suit, cut my hair, paint my toenails, make iced tea… and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
I whistle through my teeth. “Whoa. Well, no wonder they’re so crazy.”
“It’s even worse when they’re expecting.”
While he puts his wallet back in his pocket, I try to recall Sam’s recent behavior. Other than not telling me she’s pregnant, she’s been pretty normal, which is always a little off. Come to think of it, how would I even recognize the difference?
“Has Sienna… been acting different?”
“Hard to say. She’s been tired and tearful but who wouldn’t be given her current circumstances. Shit, this should be the happiest moment of our lives. Damn that Olafson. I just know he’s behind it. Tomorrow, I want to be in on his interrogation.
The next day, however, it’s not my lawyer who sits with me in the parking lot in front of Thompson’s Correctional Facility, it’s Sam.
I grimace at the thought of her getting hurt. “I wish you hadn’t insisted on coming.”
My beautiful partner stretches, then yawns. “Scooby-Doo needs Shaggy. End of discussion.”
She glances down at the time and points to where people gather outside a door marked visitors. “C’mon, they’re going in.”
Inside, she takes the lead with the interrogation as we agreed. “Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Olafson. We were hoping to ask you a few questions.”
“And why would I bother?”
“Good behavior toward early parole?” Sam shrugs, rises, and turns to me. “This is a waste of time. Let’s go, Suds.”
“Wait. Jesus. Give a guy a chance to answer.”
Sitting, she folds her hands in front of her on the table. “Did you hear about Calvin Peet’s accident?”
“What about it?” His eyes narrow but he shows no signs of nervousness. Even the small ticks around the eyes and nose remain still.
I’m skilled at reading people and thus, suspect our trip was for nothing as Sam fires off her next question. “Who, besides you, might have it in for your ex-wife?”
He grins but it doesn’t meet his eyes and his laugh is full of malice. “How about everyone named Buonanno?”
