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“Let me make a call,” the woman said. She dialed a number and explained the situation to her boss, then she held out the phone to Dink. “Mrs. Elliott would like to speak with you.”
“Certainly.” Dink took the phone. “Good morning, Mrs. Elliott.”
“Good morning, Mr. Fisher. I just wanted to confirm: You’re Mr. Mosely’s attorney?”
“Attorney for his family,” Dink replied. “His father asked me to come and see him.”
“Is this about getting Mr. Mosely discharged?”
“Not per se,” Dink said, “but his father did ask me to inquire about that while I’m here. Do you feel that Mr. Mosely is ready for release?”
“It’s funny you should turn up here today, Mr. Fisher, because his case is up for review this morning, and I was about to go to the meeting. Tell you what, I’ll give instructions to have Mr. Mosely brought to the library, and if there are any developments, I’ll contact you there before noon.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” He gave the phone back to the receptionist.
“Yes?” she said into the phone. “Yes, he gave me his business card. All right.” She hung up. “Mr. Fisher, would you please go down this hallway to the end, where the double doors are? That’s the library, and Mr. Mosely will be brought to see you there.”
“Thank you,” Dink said. He reached for the business card. “Oh, do you mind if I keep this? It’s my last one.”
“Not at all,” she said.
Dink walked down the hall and let himself into a handsome, walnut-paneled room filled with leather-bound volumes. He took a seat in one of a pair of wing chairs at a front window overlooking the grounds.
A couple of minutes passed, then a middle-aged woman in whites entered the room, followed by Parker Mosely, who was dressed in his own clothes-a blue blazer and khaki trousers.
“Mr. Fisher?” the woman asked.
“Yes, Parker’s father asked me to come and see him.”
Parker looked at him questioningly, then caught on.
“When you’re done, if you’ll just pick up the phone by the door and dial zero and let us know, I’ll come back for Mr. Mosely.” She left the room.
Dink and Parker shook hands, half embracing.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Parker asked.
“Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
They took the wing chairs by the window. “How are they treating you?” Dink asked.
“They’re about finished treating me, I think,” Parker said. “I pretty much snowed them from day one.”
“Have you seen Carson?”
“She’s in the women’s wing, but I see her at meals. We’ve had lunch together a couple of times.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She doesn’t look so hot. Coming down off a cocaine habit is a little raw, if you know what I mean. I’m glad I never used it much.”
“Carson has an addictive personality,” Dink said. “Some people are just made that way.”
“Yeah, I know. How the hell did you get out of that farm place?”
“Two ways. I snowed my keeper, and I turned twenty-one. The keeper took me to a movie in the village, and I took a hike and picked up my car from the place you left it. Thanks, by the way.”
“Yeah, sure.”
