67
Elvis Cole
Adele Schumacher invited me to her home for lunch on a warm fall day. We sat on lawn chairs in her backyard, surrounded by roses and zinnias and bees. Wendy was somewhere inside. Kurt sat at the far end of the guesthouse. Maybe they thought I would kidnap her and demand an unseemly ransom.
I said, “Doesn’t it get old, having them around all the time?”
Adele laughed.
“I guess somebody’s worried I’ll spill the beans!”
I said, “Nah, you’d never do that.”
She giggled.
“I might for the right price.”
I think she was flirting.
Lunch was processed ham, processed American cheese, and mayo on processed white bread. Adele made the sandwiches in her kitchen while we talked and we carried them out on paper plates. I had water. She had full-sugar Coke from the can. The bees must have smelled it. They’d circle close and she brushed them away.
Adele said, “This young woman, the dead girl, Rachel Bohlen.”
“What about her?”
“Were they involved?”
Meaning Rachel and Josh.
“They were friends. If it was more than that, I don’t know. You should ask him.”
She pooched her lips, thinking. She thought for a while and then she looked at me.
“He blames himself.”
Ryan.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“He’s devastated. Poor Ryan. Ryan was such a sweet boy. I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t recall a time when we didn’t have Ryan.”
Adele’s hands worked the can. Kneading. Twisting. Adele was grieving Ryan, too.
She said, “Now he has no one. Ryan, this girl. I wish he had someone. I worry.”
“He’s doing his show again. That’s something. He changed the name, you know.”
She nodded.
“I know! In Your Face with Josh Shoe and Ryan Seborg. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Ryan would like it.”
“Have you heard his shows? They’re very good. Josh is quite the good showman.”
“You should tell him.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Corbin should tell him.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell Corbin. Tell him to tell Josh how proud he is.”
Her eyes filled and she turned toward the bees. She reached out then and rested her hand on my arm.
“I don’t think I’ve been a very good mother.”
I covered her hand with mine.
“You’re being a good mother now.”
She patted my hand and stood.
“I have to see to these bees.”
Adele set the plate on her chair and walked past the guesthouse and Kurt and went to the bees. They swarmed and circled around her. I wondered if the bees were making decisions. I wondered what they thought.
Kurt picked up his chair and followed her.
I let myself out and walked down the drive to my car. That afternoon, I called Josh. We made a date for the following Sunday. I picked him up and we visited Ryan Seborg’s grave. I didn’t say much. This was Josh’s time with his friend. After a while Josh told me he was ready and stood. I drove him back to his yellow bungalow and then I went home.
About the Author
Robert Crais is the author of twenty-two previous novels, eighteen of them featuring private investigator Elvis Cole and his laconic ex-cop partner, Joe Pike. Before writing his first novel, Crais spent several years writing scripts for such major television series as Hill Street Blues, Cagney & Lacey, and Miami Vice. He was named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America and has received multiple awards for his work. His novels have been translated into forty-two languages and are bestsellers around the world. A native of Louisiana, he lives in Los Angeles.