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Chapter 10
Calder let himself into his thirty-second-floor condo and headed straight for the built-in bar. The surface of the countertop, like every surface in the place, was as sleek as a mirror and cool to the touch. The glass shelves above it were invisibly lined with strips of LED lighting, preset to provide a soft glow. Everything was top of the line.
That included the bourbon that he splashed into a crystal glass. He shot it, then poured another. “Sue me,” he said, raising the refill to the pharmacist who had cautioned him against combining his pain medication with alcohol.
Not that the prescription pills did a damn bit of good without liquid reinforcement.
He carried his drink into the living area, slumped down onto the sofa, and picked up the TV remote. It was always set on a sports channel unless Shauna had come along behind him and changed it.
Sure enough, an MLB game was on. Third inning, no score.
It was top of the ninth and Calder was on his fourth undiluted whiskey when the door lock clicked and Shauna came in. Automatically, she tapped a wall switch that turned on all the lamps. The lighting was subtle. Nevertheless, Calder scowled against it.
Spotting him, she said, “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“I didn’t realize I was.”
He hadn’t noticed that the sun had gone down even though two walls of the spacious living area were composed of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Dallas skyline, now alight against a late-evening sky.
She set her large bag on the console table and stepped out of her heels. “I was getting worried. I called to check on you several times.”
“I turned off my phone.”
“Were you sleeping?”
“No.”
“Have you eaten anything today?”
“No.”
“Calder—”
“I’m not hungry.”
She came over and sat on the opposite end of the sofa from where he was slouched. She noticed his booted feet propped on the acrylic coffee table. That was against house rules, but he couldn’t get his boots off one-handedly, and he hadn’t wanted to bother going into his bedroom to use his boot jack. Shauna was wise enough not to remark on the transgression.
Instead, she glanced at the TV and asked, “Close score?”
“I really haven’t been paying attention.”
“Did you watch the press conference?”
“No.”
“I left you a voice mail about it. You should have watched it. The big announcement was that—”
“I know what the announcement was. Compton and Perkins scooped you. I heard the news straight from them.”
“They came here?”
“I went to them.”
“When?”
“This afternoon. At two-forty-five to be exact. But it took longer than fifteen minutes.”
By now she’d noticed more than that his feet were on the coffee table. At some point, he had wrestled himself out of his blazer and had slung it inside out over the back of a chair. He’d also untucked his shirttail and undone several buttons.
