I left them in the living room and went to the kitchen after Karen Lloyd. She was standing at the sink, staring through the garden window at her backyard. There were little clay pots on the shelf in the window for growing herbs. Some of the pots were planted, but some of them weren’t.

She said, “The man came to my home. He actually came to my home. He was threatening my child.”

“Mobsters will do that.”

She stared at the backyard some more, and I thought she was going to cry, but she didn’t. Every tendon in her body was standing out. I will change my life. I will maintain control. You had to admire it. She said, “Oh my God, what am I doing to us? What if they had hurt my son?”

I reached out and touched her back. She didn’t pull away. I said, “They didn’t and they won’t. Charlie wants you on his side. He hurts the boy, he knows he’s lost you.”

She nodded, thinking about that but not believing it. “I want you to watch out for him. Will you do that? Will you and Mr. Pike stay with us until this is over?”

“Yes.”

She turned away from the window and looked at the door to the living room. “I’m going to have to tell all of this.”

“I don’t see any way around it.”

She closed her eyes and looked tired. “Christ,” she said, “that’s going to be worse than dealing with Charlie.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Twenty-seven

I left Karen Lloyd in the kitchen and went back out into the living room. Toby had come back and was sitting on the couch with Peter. Pike was gone. Outside, probably. Peter said, “You want to come visit me in California?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, you come out,” Peter said, “I’ll make the studio send their jet. They got this jet, it does nothing but fly jerks to places they don’t need to go. The studios are scared shitless of me. I got a house in Malibu on the beach. Johnny Carson lives a couple doors down. So does Steven Spielberg and Sly Stallone and Tom Hanks. We can hang out. Won’t that be great?”

“Unh-hunh.” Maybe meaning Spielberg and Stallone, maybe meaning the jet. Dani was smiling and nodding at how wonderful it would all be. Every boy’s adventure come true.

Outside, I could see Pike on the driveway, palms together over his head, standing on one leg. Tree pose. Seeking focus and balance and escape from chaos. Peter said, “What’s your favorite car?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s your favorite car? You see TV, you see cars driving around, you look at magazines. You gotta have a favorite car.”

“I kinda like red cars.” He had never thought about it.