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ALAN


While the turkey was resting on the cutting board prior to carving, Lauren asked me if I’d spoken with Jon Younger.

“Maybe after dinner,” I said. “But I’m still not convinced this can’t wait until Monday.”

She kissed me. “Call him. Please.”


Dinner? The turkey was dry, the gravy a little salty, and the cranberries overcooked, but the caramelized Brussels sprouts were perfection, and the merlot that Lauren had picked was as supple as a young dancer. Jonas, our neighbor Adrienne’s son, and his nanny joined us for the meal because Adrienne was taking call at the hospital. Grace made it through the entire affair without a meltdown, and Lauren fought her steroid malaise with a determination that was inspiring.

The dogs slept like dogs.

It was a pretty damn good Thanksgiving.

Lauren and I cleaned up the kitchen together. I grabbed my pager off my hip a moment after I started the dishwasher and promptly excused myself to make a couple of phone calls. Five minutes later I tracked Lauren down at the pool table in time to watch her rerack the balls and begin to fondle the white cue ball in a way that made me just the slightest bit jealous.

I said, “Our guests are gone?”

She nodded. “Jonas was approaching a cliff at high speed. We thought he should have a mattress under him when he went over it.”

I pointed at my pager and said, “Emergency, unfortunately. I have to go into the office for a couple of hours.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah?”

I said, “Yeah.”

She didn’t believe me.

She leaned over the table and with a single powerful stroke turned the triangle of pool balls into a physics lesson in vectors.


I didn’t make the third phone call, the crucial phone call, until I was in my car on the way downtown to my office.

“Jim? Alan Gregory.”

“Alan. This is a surprise.”

“Are you out somewhere, Jim? Am I disturbing your dinner?” The truth was that I didn’t really care whether I was intruding, but feigning politeness was called for, and I was feigning politeness.

“I’m with some friends. We just finished. What’s up?”

“It’s about the problem with… your client’s secrets. I have some information that you should know.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m not comfortable going into it on the phone. Could you drop by my office later on? Maybe five o’clock?”

“On Thanksgiving? This is necessary?”

“I think you should know what’s going on. Some of what I want to talk with you about other people already know, so I’d like to bring you up to speed as soon as possible in case some of it becomes public, Jim.”

“Really. Five o’clock?”

“I’m heading into the office now, and I have an emergency-something with another patient-that I need to take care of first. She and I should be done by five at the latest.”

“See you then,” he said.


When I arrived in downtown Boulder, I detoured into the parking lot of one of the banks on Walnut near Fourteenth and withdrew the maximum amount that was permitted from an ATM. My plan required cash. Quite a bit of it, actually.

A few blocks farther west I pulled down the driveway of the building that held my office. She was waiting for me on the steps that led up to the French doors at the rear of the building.

“You got the money?”

I flashed the thick pile of twenties.

“Let’s go, then, get this done. They’re holding dessert until I get back. My sister makes a sweet potato pie that…”

Tayisha’s words just faded into the night.

“Shouldn’t take long?” I asked.

“Nope.” She smiled at me in a way that made her sparkling white teeth jump out of the darkness. “My boss never hears about this, right?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Then we’re on. Where’s my baby?”


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