fifty-four

It was two in the morning when I got home. Jael was waiting for me in my apartment. She sat on one of the tall chairs in front of the galley kitchen drinking Lagavulin. Apparently, she had developed a taste for it.

I had been expecting a hug when I saw her again. I would have settled for a handshake. I was disappointed on both counts. Jael looked at me as I walked into the door. She said, “I have checked the apartment. It is safe. No one has attempted to enter.”

I said, “Did you pick the lock again?”

Jael said nothing.

“Dumb question,” I said, eyeing Jael’s handbag. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You had put yourself into a dangerous position.”

“I know.” As I talked, I dismantled my pond-soaked BlackBerry. I took out the battery and checked the moisture indicator. It had turned black. The swim in the Public Garden Lagoon had voided its warranty.

“You were drunk.”

“I was.”

“Do you have a drinking problem?” she asked.

Drinking problem? I had always thought of it more as a drinking solution. Alcohol took the sharp edge out of life. It helped me focus on the present, and in a world where I’d lost Carol in the past and was facing a future without her, the present looked pretty good.

I said, “No, I don’t have a drinking problem. I’m just stupid.”

“That is too bad. They do not have meetings for stupidity.”

Jael had just made a joke. I smiled and said, “Hello, my name is Tucker and I’m an idiot.”

Jael said, “Yes.”

“You’re not supposed to say ‘Yes.’ You’re supposed to say ‘Hello, Tucker.’”

Jael sipped her drink and said, “They have made their first attempt. They will not give up now. I will take you to a hotel tonight.”

“Let me take a shower first. My hair feels like it’s full of duck shit.”

I stood in the shower, being careful not to soak my arm. The bullet had just grazed me, but the cut still hurt like hell. I dried off, and wrapping the towel around my waist, went into the bedroom to get dressed. I put on a collared blue shirt and black chinos. Then I called the Hilton, got a room for the night, put my toothbrush in my pocket, and was ready to go.

We walked downstairs to where Bobby was watching Jael’s car. As we got in, he nodded and drove away.

The Back Bay Hilton shares the parking garage with Bukowski Tavern. It was next to the convention center, MantaSoft, Margaret, Roland, and Dmitri. It was a risk to stay so close, but I wanted to be able to get to the Boylston Suites early in the morning. As Jael drove me to the hotel, I told her my plan. She hated it as much as Bobby did.

I didn’t care. I needed closure, and I didn’t want Margaret to get away with stealing my code. I didn’t want the people who killed Carol to live happily ever after. I wanted Roland’s ass to be traded for cigarettes in a federal prison, and I wanted Margaret’s next dinner to be in a cell with an open toilet.

“I’ll do it on my own,” I said. “You don’t need to be involved.”

“I cannot leave you now. Still, this plan is too dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“That is what makes it especially dangerous. I can see it in your eyes. Something changed in you tonight.”

I had nothing to say.

Jael continued. “A man tried to kill you. It distorts one’s attitude.”

I looked at Jael, and it was clear that she spoke from experience.

“Yes. It did change my attitude. Now I’m angry.”

“Anger will get you killed.”