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Chapter64
DECKER AND MARSLOOKEDDOWNat the woman. She was so covered in tubes and monitoring lines that it was almost difficult to discern the living person under this medical canopy.
But it was Rachel Katz. Still alive. And still critically stable.
“What do the doctors say?” asked Decker.
“That she’ll wake up at some point. They just don’t know when.”
“You’ve been in here most of the time. Has she come to at all? Made any sounds? Talked in her sleep?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“You need to take a break from here, Melvin. She’s got great care. And she’s well protected.”
“I don’t know, Decker,” he said doubtfully.
“Idoknow. And I’ve got some place I want you to go with me tonight.”
“Where?”
“Duncan Marks’s house. He invited me and Lancaster to dinner. I don’t think he’ll mind you tagging along. He was asking about Rachel today.”
“Okay, but why are you having dinner with the guy?”
“Because he did some business with her. And I need to know more about the history there.”
“Okay, if you think it will help.”
“At this point, Melvin, anything will help.”
***
They drove in Decker’s car up the long, winding road to Marks’s home, or, more aptly, his estate. They pulled in front of the mansionand parked in a stone-paved motor court.
Decker looked in the direction of Burlington and saw the lights of the town winking down below. Marks certainly had a fine view from up here.
When they got out, Lancaster tugged self-consciously at her dress and then prodded a few stray hairs back into place. “I didn’t really have anything in my closet for something like this,” she said, staring up at the enormous stone and stucco house, which looked like it belonged in the French or Italian countryside. “And I had no time to get my hair done.”
Decker said, “You look fine.”
“It’s different for guys, Decker,” she said in an annoyed tone.
“Just so long as you have your gun,” he said.
“I hope you’re joking,” she said, grinning.
He didn’t smile back.
Decker wore a corduroy jacket that looked like it had been new about thirty years ago, and khaki pants. And the cleanest shirt he had left.
Mars looked resplendent in a tailored wool jacket, white button-down shirt, slacks, and a pocket square.
“You, on the other hand, look like you could be inGQ,” Lancaster said to Mars.
“Thanks. For twenty years I wore the same clothes, white prison jumpsuit, so this is a nice change.”
They walked up to the massive double front doors and Decker rang the bell. A few moments later it was opened by a man in butler’s livery, who escorted them through to the library, where he said Marks and the rest of his party had gathered for cocktails before dinner.
