hanging from the porch railing and looked back at her once more. “Take care of my flying squirrel for me. I’m thinking of naming her Pamela,” he called out .
Pamela gave him one last smile as he bounded down the steps and climbed into his Jeep.
Daniel tossed his T-shirt on to the passenger’s seat, put on his sunglasses, and eyed the woman standing on the porch.
“I’m one lucky son of a bitch,” he mumbled to himself as he started his Jeep. “I just hope I don’t blow it.”
Chapter 6
A familiar silver Mercedes-Benz CL 550 coupe made its way slowly down Pamela’s long gravel drive from the main road. She had been sitting out on the front porch, enjoying an afternoon break from the animals, when the car pulled up in front of her house.
“Great, this is all I need,” she whispered.
The usual welcoming committee of stray dogs surrounded the car, but this time there was no loud demonstration of barking as a man dressed in a tailored gray suit stepped from his Mercedes. He removed a pair of expensive Vuarnet sunglasses and threw them on the seat as he gazed up at the porch. The dogs eagerly gathered around the man with their tails wagging, waiting for their customary pat on the head.
“Hello, Pamela,” he said as he looked up from rubbing Quincy’s thick neck.
“Hello, Bob. What brings you out on a weekday?”
Bob Patrick was a man of medium-height with a thick body, and perfectly coiffed light brown hair. He had a long nose, round face, and a wide forehead that made his pale green eyes appear to be very intense. It was a feature Pamela knew he used to his advantage in the courtroom every time he cross-examined a witness.
“I had some free time this afternoon and thought I would come out and see how things were going,” he told her as he made his way up the steps. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he added as he walked up to her side and tenderly kissed her cheek.
She could smell the woody cologne on his clothes as he approached. Pamela had forgotten how heavy-handed Bob tended to be with the stuff. It used to drive her out of their bedroom every morning when they were married. She felt she had spent half of their marriage running away from the smell of him. She had always been too afraid to tell him how she felt about his liberal use of cologne. At that moment, she realized she had always been too afraid to tell him about a lot of things.
Bob’s pale green eyes explored up and down her body. “You’ve been feeling all right?”
Pamela frowned at her ex-husband’s attempt at concern. “I’m fine, Bob.”
“You look good.” He leered at her. “But then you always look good, no matter how sick you are.”
He inspected the property as if searching for something. Pamela followed his eyes and wondered what he could possibly be looking for.
“I ran into Jennifer Barons the other days at Galatoire’s,” he said as his eyes came back to her. “She asked about you. I said I would pass on her best. She and Elliot divorced last year. Ted Yanosky handled it. Very nasty, according to Ted.”
“Well, Jennifer was the one with all of the money,” Pamela commented, not really interested in the vacuous lives of forgotten friends in the city. “Elliot told everyone he married her for her money. He wasn’t a very subtle man.”
Bob nodded in agreement. “His two mistresses didn’t think so either. They both testified against him at the divorce hearing, so Jennifer ended up walking away without having to pay him a dime.”
Pamela studied his face for a moment. “You didn’t drive all the way up here to talk about Jennifer and Elliot. I know you, Bob, and you wouldn’t go to this much trouble without a reason.”
“I could never pull one over on you, P.A.,” he remarked, smiling.
“P.A.? You haven’t called me that in years,” she responded, referring to Bob’s favorite nickname for her when they were married.
“I’ve always called you P.A. You’re the one who
Pamela gave him one last smile as he bounded down the steps and climbed into his Jeep.
Daniel tossed his T-shirt on to the passenger’s seat, put on his sunglasses, and eyed the woman standing on the porch.
“I’m one lucky son of a bitch,” he mumbled to himself as he started his Jeep. “I just hope I don’t blow it.”
Chapter 6
A familiar silver Mercedes-Benz CL 550 coupe made its way slowly down Pamela’s long gravel drive from the main road. She had been sitting out on the front porch, enjoying an afternoon break from the animals, when the car pulled up in front of her house.
“Great, this is all I need,” she whispered.
The usual welcoming committee of stray dogs surrounded the car, but this time there was no loud demonstration of barking as a man dressed in a tailored gray suit stepped from his Mercedes. He removed a pair of expensive Vuarnet sunglasses and threw them on the seat as he gazed up at the porch. The dogs eagerly gathered around the man with their tails wagging, waiting for their customary pat on the head.
“Hello, Pamela,” he said as he looked up from rubbing Quincy’s thick neck.
“Hello, Bob. What brings you out on a weekday?”
Bob Patrick was a man of medium-height with a thick body, and perfectly coiffed light brown hair. He had a long nose, round face, and a wide forehead that made his pale green eyes appear to be very intense. It was a feature Pamela knew he used to his advantage in the courtroom every time he cross-examined a witness.
“I had some free time this afternoon and thought I would come out and see how things were going,” he told her as he made his way up the steps. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he added as he walked up to her side and tenderly kissed her cheek.
She could smell the woody cologne on his clothes as he approached. Pamela had forgotten how heavy-handed Bob tended to be with the stuff. It used to drive her out of their bedroom every morning when they were married. She felt she had spent half of their marriage running away from the smell of him. She had always been too afraid to tell him how she felt about his liberal use of cologne. At that moment, she realized she had always been too afraid to tell him about a lot of things.
Bob’s pale green eyes explored up and down her body. “You’ve been feeling all right?”
Pamela frowned at her ex-husband’s attempt at concern. “I’m fine, Bob.”
“You look good.” He leered at her. “But then you always look good, no matter how sick you are.”
He inspected the property as if searching for something. Pamela followed his eyes and wondered what he could possibly be looking for.
“I ran into Jennifer Barons the other days at Galatoire’s,” he said as his eyes came back to her. “She asked about you. I said I would pass on her best. She and Elliot divorced last year. Ted Yanosky handled it. Very nasty, according to Ted.”
“Well, Jennifer was the one with all of the money,” Pamela commented, not really interested in the vacuous lives of forgotten friends in the city. “Elliot told everyone he married her for her money. He wasn’t a very subtle man.”
Bob nodded in agreement. “His two mistresses didn’t think so either. They both testified against him at the divorce hearing, so Jennifer ended up walking away without having to pay him a dime.”
Pamela studied his face for a moment. “You didn’t drive all the way up here to talk about Jennifer and Elliot. I know you, Bob, and you wouldn’t go to this much trouble without a reason.”
“I could never pull one over on you, P.A.,” he remarked, smiling.
“P.A.? You haven’t called me that in years,” she responded, referring to Bob’s favorite nickname for her when they were married.
“I’ve always called you P.A. You’re the one who
Similar Books
