them.
“Friends?” Jane asked archly as they sat down at their table and picked up menus.
“That remains to be seen,” Wolf said.
“They looked surprised to see me with you,” she said.
“Fuck ’em,” Wolf said lightly. “I can recommend the smoked pheasant spring rolls or the Chinese dumplings tostart; the fish is always good, and I’m fond of the duck.”
“Surprise me,” she said.
“Seems only fair,” he replied. “You’ve been surprising me for the past two weeks.”
“Oh? How?”
“Well, you were always just the editor’s assistant before; I had no idea you were so good.”
“Why did you ask for me, then?”
“I wanted a cutter—a technician; I didn’t expect more than that.”
“I like to give people more than they expect,” she said.
“A good policy,” he replied. “Tell me, how did you become a single mother?”
“The usual way,” she said dryly.
He laughed. “That wasn’t what I meant. Why didn’t you marry the guy?”
“And compound my error? He was an out-of-work actor—still is—and it was just a roll in the hay. I was on the pill, but I guess it didn’t work.”
“Was having the baby a tough decision?”
“Not really. I had two strong feelings: one, I didn’t want to have an abortion, and two, I wanted a baby. No conflict.”
“Has it been tough?”
“Not as tough as you might think. My sister, who’s single too, has been great. She lived with me until Sara was old enough for school; otherwise, it would have been really tough.”
“No disadvantages to being a single mother?”
Jane shrugged. “Not many. Not much time for things other than work and Sara, I guess.”
“So you’ve been a social recluse for the past eight or nine years?”
“Well, not entirely; but I found myself turning downinvitations that were just dates. There didn’t seem to be time for anything that didn’t have more meaning.”
“Does her father see anything of Sara?”
She shook her head. “She gets a birthday card from him most years; sometimes it comes with twenty bucks inside. He’s in New York—was on a soap for a couple of years, but now he’s at liberty again.” She looked down at the tablecloth. “Actually, I prefer having him in New York; I wouldn’t want to share Sara with him. I’m too selfish. You were married once before, weren’t you?”
He nodded and told her about the accident, skipping his blackout.
“That must have been tough.”
He nodded again. “You get over these things,” he said. “In fact, I think I’m getting better at getting over them.”
She looked at him oddly but didn’t question him further.
When they got back to the house in Wilderness Gate, he said goodnight at the door to the guest wing. They didn’t touch.
CHAPTER
15
E d Eagle drove through the open gate and down the drive toward Mark Shea’s house. As directed, he turned off to the little building where Shea received patients.
As he parked the car, the door to the office opened and Shea made his goodbyes to a tall, very beautiful woman Eagle recognized immediately. He had, in fact, seen her latest film the week before and had thought her brilliant. He was struck with an unexpected reluctance to make eye contact with her, and he waited until her car drove away before he got out of his. On his way to Shea’s front door he analyzed his reaction. Was it timidity? Probably not; hardly anybody made him feel timid anymore. Tact, that’s what it was, he decided. She wouldn’t want to be seen leaving her psychiatrist’s office, so he hadn’t seen her.
“Morning, Ed; come in,” Mark Shea said, smiling and shaking his hand. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“If you’ll join me, Mark.” Eagle had known Shea sincethe psychiatrist had come to Santa Fe some years before, but they were not close friends. Still, he was grateful for the occasional referral of a client—especially one like Wolf Willett—and he liked the man. He’d heard that Shea had
“Friends?” Jane asked archly as they sat down at their table and picked up menus.
“That remains to be seen,” Wolf said.
“They looked surprised to see me with you,” she said.
“Fuck ’em,” Wolf said lightly. “I can recommend the smoked pheasant spring rolls or the Chinese dumplings tostart; the fish is always good, and I’m fond of the duck.”
“Surprise me,” she said.
“Seems only fair,” he replied. “You’ve been surprising me for the past two weeks.”
“Oh? How?”
“Well, you were always just the editor’s assistant before; I had no idea you were so good.”
“Why did you ask for me, then?”
“I wanted a cutter—a technician; I didn’t expect more than that.”
“I like to give people more than they expect,” she said.
“A good policy,” he replied. “Tell me, how did you become a single mother?”
“The usual way,” she said dryly.
He laughed. “That wasn’t what I meant. Why didn’t you marry the guy?”
“And compound my error? He was an out-of-work actor—still is—and it was just a roll in the hay. I was on the pill, but I guess it didn’t work.”
“Was having the baby a tough decision?”
“Not really. I had two strong feelings: one, I didn’t want to have an abortion, and two, I wanted a baby. No conflict.”
“Has it been tough?”
“Not as tough as you might think. My sister, who’s single too, has been great. She lived with me until Sara was old enough for school; otherwise, it would have been really tough.”
“No disadvantages to being a single mother?”
Jane shrugged. “Not many. Not much time for things other than work and Sara, I guess.”
“So you’ve been a social recluse for the past eight or nine years?”
“Well, not entirely; but I found myself turning downinvitations that were just dates. There didn’t seem to be time for anything that didn’t have more meaning.”
“Does her father see anything of Sara?”
She shook her head. “She gets a birthday card from him most years; sometimes it comes with twenty bucks inside. He’s in New York—was on a soap for a couple of years, but now he’s at liberty again.” She looked down at the tablecloth. “Actually, I prefer having him in New York; I wouldn’t want to share Sara with him. I’m too selfish. You were married once before, weren’t you?”
He nodded and told her about the accident, skipping his blackout.
“That must have been tough.”
He nodded again. “You get over these things,” he said. “In fact, I think I’m getting better at getting over them.”
She looked at him oddly but didn’t question him further.
When they got back to the house in Wilderness Gate, he said goodnight at the door to the guest wing. They didn’t touch.
CHAPTER
15
E d Eagle drove through the open gate and down the drive toward Mark Shea’s house. As directed, he turned off to the little building where Shea received patients.
As he parked the car, the door to the office opened and Shea made his goodbyes to a tall, very beautiful woman Eagle recognized immediately. He had, in fact, seen her latest film the week before and had thought her brilliant. He was struck with an unexpected reluctance to make eye contact with her, and he waited until her car drove away before he got out of his. On his way to Shea’s front door he analyzed his reaction. Was it timidity? Probably not; hardly anybody made him feel timid anymore. Tact, that’s what it was, he decided. She wouldn’t want to be seen leaving her psychiatrist’s office, so he hadn’t seen her.
“Morning, Ed; come in,” Mark Shea said, smiling and shaking his hand. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“If you’ll join me, Mark.” Eagle had known Shea sincethe psychiatrist had come to Santa Fe some years before, but they were not close friends. Still, he was grateful for the occasional referral of a client—especially one like Wolf Willett—and he liked the man. He’d heard that Shea had
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