Divided off from the nursery by more Plexiglas was the neonatal intensive care unit. There was only one parent with one child in there now. Lex sat in a rocking chair, but the chair didn’t move. He wore a yellow smock. He cupped his son’s head with his left hand, cradling the child on his right forearm. Tears lined his face. For a long moment, Myron just stood and watched him. Muse joined him.

“What the hell is going on here, Myron?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Do you have any idea what the media is going to be like on this?”

Like he cared. He started for the door. A nurse stopped him and made him wash his hands. Then she put a yellow surgical smock and matching mask on him. Myron pushed open the door with his back. Lex did not look up.

“Lex?”

“Not now.”

“I think we should talk.”

Lex finally looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. When he spoke now, his voice was soft. “I asked you to leave it alone, didn’t I?”

Silence. Later, Myron was sure, the words would sting. Later, when he settled down and tried to sleep, the guilt would reach into his chest and crush his heart like a Styrofoam cup. “I saw her tattoo,” Myron said. “It was in that post.”

He closed his eyes. “Suzze was the only woman I ever loved. And now she’s gone. I mean, forever. I will never see Suzze again. I will never hold her. This boy—your godson—will never know his mother.”

Myron said nothing. He felt a tremor start in his chest.

“We have to talk, Lex.”

“Not tonight.” His voice was surprisingly gentle now. “Tonight I just want to sit here and protect my son.”

“Protect him from what?”

He didn’t respond. Myron felt his phone buzz. He took a surreptitious glance and saw that the call was coming from his father. He stepped out of the room and put the phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“I heard about Suzze on the radio. Is it true?”

“Yes. I’m at the hospital now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. I’m kind of busy here. . . .”

“When you’re done, do you think you could swing by the house?”

“Tonight?”

“If possible.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I just need to talk to you about something,” Dad said. “Don’t worry how late. I’ll be awake.”

Chapter 18

18

Before leaving the hospital, Myron played lawyer and warned Loren Muse not to speak to his client Lex Ryder without legal counsel. She responded that he should be fruitful and multiply, but not in those exact words. Win and Esperanza arrived. Win filled him in on his prison encounter with Frank Ache. Myron wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Perhaps,” Win said, “we should meet with Herman Ache.”