Reilly 13 - Dreams of the Dead (41 page)

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Authors: Perri O'Shaughnessy

BOOK: Reilly 13 - Dreams of the Dead
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The clouds moved over the sky. They listened to the sounds of dogs in the distance, barking and scrapping, and kids screaming their joyousness.

Lake Tahoe lapped along the shore.

“I am in heaven,” Andrea said.

“Paradise,” said Paul.

They chatted and dozed, and the time passed in a summer blur of lake, cloud, blue sky, and towering mountains.

“M
om?”

Nina awoke again to the sight of Bob, in his baggy swimsuit, hoisting a sand-encrusted inner tube.

“I’m cold.”

She blinked, looking around. Even in the summer, the lake changed every five minutes, and right now it had changed to something threatening.

“I saw lightning over Tallac,” Bob said. “Really bright.”

“Oh, that mountain is notorious for thunderstorms. Nothing to worry about.” She thought about the lightning strike up there, deaths. She didn’t pray often, but she hoped anyone up on that mountain was taking care.

Bob, his worries set aside, went off to find his cousins.

Nina nudged her fellow sleepers. “Time to go.”

Laden with dirty towels, baskets, and umbrellas, they began trudging toward the cars.

“We should make the kids help,” Andrea said, heaving a trash bag into the trunk of their car. “They need to learn—”

“Let them play,” Matt said, shutting the trunk. “How long does it last, this moment when the sun is going down, and the lake is driving us nuts with how pretty it is, and the sky’s strange and we love each other?” He put his arm around Andrea’s waist, and they walked back to the beach.

Paul put his arm around Nina’s waist. They walked behind Matt and Andrea back to the beach.

“Here’s a fallen tree,” Paul said. “Let’s sit here. See how bad the storm is. See how long the kids last. Before it’s dark.”

“Before it’s dark and we have to go home,” Nina said.

A
fter the police left, Sondra’s employer, Riley Fox, called her into her office, asking her to please sit down on the new white leather Palermo love seat. Sondra sank down into the cushion, wondering why she had been called in. She thought through the past few weeks and couldn’t think of any mistakes she had made, but you never knew how another person really thought. You never knew how another person might judge the exact same situation. Maybe she had canceled a client that turned out to be the biggest, best case, but that would really surprise her. As always, she had evaluated recent clients the way she evaluated men, with a cool and thoughtful eye, and an acute nose for the nasty ones.

She had ferreted out a nasty one, hadn’t she? The sick wife, the compromised husband, all in cahoots with a greedy murderer. Well, she couldn’t exactly spell it out, but her boss had taken her hints
and run with them. Surely she recognized Sondra’s part in solving the case?

“You continue to surprise and please me, Ms. Filoplume. You figured out what was going on before I did, and you gave me that lead. You had the guts to call in help when we needed it, when I wanted to go it alone. You know I have a lot of trouble with that guy, and I had resolved never to hire him again if I could avoid it. So”—Ms. Fox handed Sondra a glass of bubbling champagne and clinked it with her own—“a toast to you, Sondra. You saw how much trouble we were in, and you stepped right up to do something about it.”

“But I had nothing to do with Raul coming up here,” Sondra protested.

“Yes, he mentioned that you didn’t want him to tell me anything about your role. Ms. Filoplume, you are a humble woman, and I appreciate that, but I’m glad I know. He told me all about how you persuaded him to come and help us, even though I had done everything in my power to stop him.”

They sipped champagne for a moment, watching the ancient lake through the picture window as it ran through the rainbow colors of evening, a sight that always made Sondra’s heart soar.

“Oh, and I’ve got something else for you.” Ms. Fox reached into her desk and pulled out an envelope. “A bonus. It’s not enough, but it’s all we can give you, along with my undying gratitude and appreciation. And by the way, I wondered if I could come out to your ranch for a horseback riding lesson soon.”

Sondra nodded. It was about time Ms. Fox learned such a basic skill.

S
ondra locked the door carefully behind her, knowing what she knew, and knowing when not to interfere, and knowing all’s well that ends with a big bonus.

The End

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The authors are indebted to Nancy Yost of Yost & Associates Literary Agency, who, with her usual wisdom and grace, played an especially critical role in the publishing process this time around; to Abby Zidle, our sharp new editor at Simon & Schuster, who showed great patience and discernment; to Louise Burke, our excellent publisher at Simon & Schuster, Inc., who has been kind enough to extend deadlines for us and has given us steady support; and to the many staffers at Simon & Schuster who worked on the book, including Tony Mauro, for such fine work on the cover art, and Steve Boldt, our skillful copy editor. We would also like to express our appreciation to Maggie Crawford, our previous editor at Simon & Schuster, who helped us tighten and organize the manuscript and was a valued adviser in an earlier stage of publication.

Many thanks to the following friends and family who supported us through the writing process with good humor and special encouragement: Andrew Fuller, Brad Snedecor, June Snedecor, Kevin Neal, Cori Snedecor, Katie Bedard, Connor Snedecor, Creda Wilson, Meg O’Shaughnessy, Stephanie O’Shaughnessy, Nita Piper, Beth Vieira, Jenny D’Angelo, Caroleena Epstein, Bruce Engel-hardt, Esther Bueno, Ardyth Brock, Steve Parker, Walt Kondrasheff, Kathy Choy, James Starshak, Sally Backus, Ann Wright, Dr. Ellen Taliaferro, Sylvia Walker, Frank Menke, Ann Walker, Dr. Ruth
Bar-Shalom, Sandy Polakoff, Lynn Snedecor, Beverly Sheveland, Karen Snedecor, Elizanne Lewis, Joan Westlund, Joanna Tamer, Helga Gerdes, Hermann Gerdes, Pat Spindt, Ruth Dawson, Bill Dawson, and Jim Nicholas.

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