Sudden Death Part 23

"This is the source of your emotional pain?" Carlotta asks.

"Not exactly."

"Then perhaps we should talk about the source of that pain."

I sit up and shake my head. "It's too painful."

We go on to talk about Teri, and I tell Carlotta what Pete Stanton has told me about his interrogation of her. Teri has openly admitted-in fact, bragged about-how she looked up each player who had verbally signed on to the "pact," all those years before. The first young man had laughed at her, ridiculing the idea that anyone could have taken it seriously.

Carlotta nods. "That would have set her off. And once she killed him, there was no turning back."

"But according to Pete, she was very calculating about it all. She took her time, didn't make them at all suspicious. She just slipped the pota.s.sium in their drink, and that was that."

"And her husband had no idea what she was doing?"

"It doesn't seem so. Bobby apparently didn't take the pact as seriously as she did, although she could only have heard about it through him. She wasn't there that weekend."

"The insecurity that would have driven Bobby to his psychosomatic injury would have made him build up the importance of the pact when he first related it to his wife," Carlotta says. "He was afraid he wasn't good enough to achieve success, so he was telling her that they'd be taken care of even if he failed."

"And she bought into it," I say.

Carlotta nods. "So strongly that she couldn't rationally deal with the disappointment when it turned out to be an illusion."

We talk about it some more, and even though there are twenty minutes left in my session, I stand up to leave.

"Andy, why don't you talk to me about what's bothering you?"

"I find it harder to deny things if I admit them first."

"It might help," she says.

"I'm not ready."

"When you are, I'll be here."

I nod. "I'll call you as soon as I am. Figure about four years from Wednesday."

I'M NOT GOING TO make it as a placekicker. I know that now. I got a book to study the technique, and I've been trying it in the park for an hour a day, each of the last two days. I've been kicking off a tee, while Willie fields the kicks and Tara and Cash watch. All of them knew I was going to fail long before I did, as they watched my kickoffs bounce pathetically along the ground. make it as a placekicker. I know that now. I got a book to study the technique, and I've been trying it in the park for an hour a day, each of the last two days. I've been kicking off a tee, while Willie fields the kicks and Tara and Cash watch. All of them knew I was going to fail long before I did, as they watched my kickoffs bounce pathetically along the ground.

I do have another plan to reach the NFL, though. I'm going to be a coach. But I don't want to be like those other crazed coaches who stay up until three o'clock in the morning watching opponents' tapes. I'm going to be a placekicking coach. The hours shouldn't be too long, and the placekicking book I got gives me a head start.

I have already taken on another case. I'm representing Kenny and Tanya Schilling in proceedings to let them adopt Jason Pollard. Since he's Kenny's natural son, and they are an upstanding family with sufficient financial resources, it will be an easy win. Especially since there is no doubt that Teri will be confined for the rest of her life.

I've now added "breaking and entering" to the personal criminal history I began when I instigated Quintana's murder. I made the a.s.sumption that Teri Pollard had taken the four hundred thousand dollars of Quintana's money from Troy Preston the night she killed him, and on Tuesday I climbed through a window of the Pollard house to look for it.

It took about an hour, but I found it buried under a mountain of toys in Jason's closet. I sent it, in the form of a check, to Adam's parents, with an accompanying note telling them that it was money he had earned. I also mentioned that he had talked about buying them a house, but that they should certainly do what they wish with the money.

Laurie sent me a letter. I got it last Wednesday, a couple of days after I talked to Carlotta. The envelope is pretty thick, so it's probably a few pages. Someday, maybe in the next couple of years, I'm going to open it. And then, a few years after that, I'll probably read it. If she wanted to come back, she'd call. This is probably a rehash of her reasons for leaving, and I just can't let myself think about it right now.

I read in this morning's paper that there's an eclipse coming up early next month. It upsets me that I have no one to whom I can say, "I told you so, the whole thing is a scam."

The truth is, there's a lot of things I want to say, but there's no one around that I want to hear them.

Laurie is the only person I really love in this world, and I hate her.

Also by David Rosenfelt

Open and Shut

First Degree

Bury the Lead

Sudden Death

Dead Center

Play Dead