“You got it, Captain,” Tom said with a deep nod. “Yes sir, anybody else shows up, I’m on the horn, and I can hold ’em till you get here, if you want me to.”

“Don’t do that,” Marino said. “Some kid with a pizza’s not going to know a damn thing. And if it’s real trouble, I don’t want you tangling with whoever it is.”

I knew right then that he was thinking about Carrie.

“I’m pretty spry. But you got it, Captain.”

“You did a great job, Tom,” I complimented him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

He pointed his remote control and raised the arm to let us through.

“I’m listening,” I said to Marino.

“Some asshole harassing you,” he said, his face grim in the intermittent bath of street lamps. “Trying to upset you, scare you, piss you off. And doing a pretty damn good job, I might add.”

“You don’t think Carrie . . .” I went ahead and started to say.

“I don’t know,” Marino cut me off. “But it wouldn’t surprise me. Your neighborhood’s been in the news enough times.”

“I guess what would be good to know is if the orders were placed locally,” I said.

“Christ,” he said as I turned into my driveway and parked behind his car. “I sure as hell hope not. Unless it’s someone else who’s jerking you around.”

“Take a number and stand in line.”

I cut the engine.

“I can sleep on your couch if you want me to,” Marino said as he opened his door.

“Of course not,” I said. “I’ll be fine. As long as no construction Dumpsters show up. That would be the last straw with my neighbors.”

“I don’t know why you live here, anyway.”

“Yes, you do.”

He got out a cigarette and clearly did not want to go anywhere.

“Right. The guard booth. Shit, talk about a placebo.”

“If you don’t feel okay to drive, I’d be pleased to have you stay on my couch,” I said.

“Who, me?”

He fired his lighter and puffed smoke out the open car door.

“It ain’t me I’m worried about, Doc.”

I got out of my car and stood on the driveway, waiting for him. His shape was big and tired in the dark, and I suddenly was overwhelmed by sad affection for him. Marino was alone and probably felt like hell. He couldn’t have memories worth much, between violence on the job and bad relationships the rest of the time. I supposed I was the only constant in his life, and although I was usually polite, I wasn’t always warm. It simply wasn’t possible.