Silent Night: A Spenser Holiday Novel by Robert B. Parker Page A

to make sure she was ready to start.
    Her first serve whizzed over the net and hit the line.
    Carmen watched it go by. She smiled at Kim and walked to the other side of the court. Kim served again. Another ace. No smile from Carmen this time. Athletes are all the same. Friendship gives way to the competitive spirit every time.
    Carmen took the next two points, then Kim served two more aces and took the first game. It was Carmen’s serve, and she made the most of it. Carmen rushed the net each time, ready to knock back every return. She won the second game without giving Kim a point. Sweat darkened the back of Carmen’s navy-blue top. Kim’s already pink cheeks grew pinker.
    “Any chance we can leave without being noticed?” I said to Susan.
    “So much for showing support,” Susan said.
    “I know what you mean, but just watching this has exhausted me.”
    Susan nodded. “Poor baby. We’ll be discreet.”
    “Let’s hit it, honey bun,” I said.
    And we did.

I WAS UNLOCKING THEDOOR to my office when I saw a shadow in the corner by the stairwell. It moved. I backed up and reached for my weapon.
    “Slide,” I said. “What are you doing over there? Come on in.” I opened the door.
    He gave me a quick smile before putting out his hand. Maybe Carmen taught him. I took it, and gravely we shook.
    “Are you very busy, Spenser?” he said.
    “Not too busy. Tell me what’s up,” I said.
    Slide had on a new pair of jeans and a Red Sox sweatshirt, along with the same oversize navy peacoat.
    “I want to get a present for Carmen,” he said. He looked at me, trusting that I would know exactly what the twenty-nine-year-old ex-mistress of a drug czar would fancy for Christmas.
    “What’s our budget?”
    He looked worried. He dug into his jeans pocket and brought out some crumpled bills and gave them to me. Twenty-two dollars of hard-earned money. “This should do it,” I said to him. “Follow me.”
    We left my office and headed toward the kiosks at Downtown Crossing, a street mall in an area near where Filene’s Basement once welcomed tourists and shoppers from the suburbs. Now carts lined the center of the street, each one loaded with scarves, hats, ties, flowers, and cheap jewelry.
    I moved purposefully ahead through the crowds of shoppers, Slide at my heels. The carts were draped with Christmas lights, and the holiday music blared from outdoor speakers.
    I turned to check on Slide. His thin face was pale and drawn. I felt his hand reach out for mine, and together we went along, inspecting each cart for something that he thought would be right for Carmen.
    Slide tugged my hand when we got to the jewelry cart. He picked up a tiny silvertone pin in the shape of a tennis racquet, edged with blue enamel. “How much,” I asked the young woman behind the cart. “Fifteen,” she replied through a thick wad of chewing gum.
    “Can you gift-wrap this for us,” I said.
    Slide’s face showed a mixture of happiness and relief to have found the pin. He took the small box with its glossy paper and bright ribbon, and for the first time he seemed unafraid of the crowd and the noise. He held his hand out for his change, and he shoved it and the box into his jacket pocket.
    “How about a hot chocolate?” I said.
    He nodded, and we made our way through the shoppers to the Emack & Bolio’s on State Street.
    We sat at a café table, and I watched Slide enjoying the marshmallow on top of his hot chocolate. He mashed it with his spoon to make it last longer. It was serious work.
    I remembered how my dad and uncles would take me for a treat at the drugstore. I could still taste the hot fudge that got chewy on the melting scoop of vanilla ice cream.
    When we had finished, we stood on the sidewalk to say our good-byes.
    “Thanks for your help, Spenser,” Slide said. “I think Carmen will really love this, don’t you?”
    “I do,” I said. “How did you get in here from Weston?” I asked. “And how are you going to get