Read Online Don't Go by Lisa Scottoline - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Scottoline
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large and wide-set, a pale blue set against his fair, ruddy skin. “What are you going to do about the baby? Laura said Danielle and Bob want to take her.”
“They do, she just made the offer today. I think I’m saying yes.”
“Hell yeah, I’d take them up on it, no question. How you gonna find anybody better?” Jim talked fast, in the flat accent of Northeast Philly. “I couldn’t do half the things I’m doing here if I had to worry about childcare. You need that on autopilot. Otherwise, it’s a hassle, your turn to pick up, my turn to pick up, is the nanny sick, is the nanny doing drugs, having guys over, whatever. Who needs that? Don’t overthink it.”
Jim’s rap on Mike was that he thought too much, but Mike liked that in a surgeon. “Family is the short answer, isn’t it?”
“Sure, need us to help with anything? We’ll be there tomorrow night.” Jim raked a hand through his hair, then patted it down. “Bob was the one who called us and told us the news. Laura answered and got hysterical, of course. I would think somebody would hear Chloe calling for help, or that she’d come to in time to call 911.”
Mike wondered if he should tell Jim about the drinking, but let him keep talking.
“I’m like, she’s dead ? You have to be kidding me, this is impossible, this woman was perfectly healthy, so full of life, you know, we all loved her, even the kids. Remember she taught Courtney calligraphy and I had to buy that two-hundred-dollar calligraphy set from Tokyo or wherever?”
“Kyoto.”
“Whatever.” Jim rubbed his face, making faint marks. “Chloe was way too young to die, and it’s just so weird the way it happened. I know this is hard to hear, but if I were you, I’d get ahold of that damn autopsy.” He raised an unruly eyebrow, his reddish-gray hairs a tangle. “I’d want to know exactly how it happened. I swear, she musta had a hairline fracture, something pre-existing, for a knock on the counter to do her in. Maybe an earlier concussion, one she didn’t know about, or even an aneurysm. What do you think?”
Mike needed a sounding board and he would swear Jim to secrecy, even from Laura. He was just about to tell him when Jim’s phone rang.
“Hold on a sec.” Jim slid his BlackBerry from the pocket of his lab coat and pressed the IGNORE button. “Sorry, day from hell. Go away.” He looked back up at Mike. “Anyway, so, where were we, hey, what do you think about the place?”
Mike changed his mind about telling him, at least for now. The moment had passed. “What gives? So we renting to this Lyon guy or what?”
“Okay, so Rick Lyon, he’s a good guy, outta D.C., I’d introduce you but he’s giving a seminar, beating the bushes. Anyway, I met him a couple months ago at Parents’ Night, his son’s in Alex’s class, and he starts telling me that kids’ sports injuries are blowing up, especially with the travel teams and everybody wanting scholarship money in the economy, the girls, too. I’m like, how do we get in on that, because our business is dropping off.”
Listening, Mike realized that Jim was just another Chatty, a superhero in charge, and he was the second banana here, too. The funny thing was, he didn’t mind. Maybe that was why he felt comfortable being the understudy, as a father. He didn’t like the spotlight. He didn’t want to be the sun.
“And of course, I’m seeing a problem down the line, because my mama didn’t raise no dummy, that people are putting off the bunionectomies because of the money.” Jim barely took a breath. “Lyon’s telling me he needs room in the western subs to expand, and I’m like, I got room and we can do that with our eyes closed, it’s the same procedures in a sports-medicine wrapper. So now the cases are through the roof, and the system administrators in Philly are starting to take notice…”
Mike zoned out as Jim went through the metrics about how they made so much the past quarter, on top of base
“They do, she just made the offer today. I think I’m saying yes.”
“Hell yeah, I’d take them up on it, no question. How you gonna find anybody better?” Jim talked fast, in the flat accent of Northeast Philly. “I couldn’t do half the things I’m doing here if I had to worry about childcare. You need that on autopilot. Otherwise, it’s a hassle, your turn to pick up, my turn to pick up, is the nanny sick, is the nanny doing drugs, having guys over, whatever. Who needs that? Don’t overthink it.”
Jim’s rap on Mike was that he thought too much, but Mike liked that in a surgeon. “Family is the short answer, isn’t it?”
“Sure, need us to help with anything? We’ll be there tomorrow night.” Jim raked a hand through his hair, then patted it down. “Bob was the one who called us and told us the news. Laura answered and got hysterical, of course. I would think somebody would hear Chloe calling for help, or that she’d come to in time to call 911.”
Mike wondered if he should tell Jim about the drinking, but let him keep talking.
“I’m like, she’s dead ? You have to be kidding me, this is impossible, this woman was perfectly healthy, so full of life, you know, we all loved her, even the kids. Remember she taught Courtney calligraphy and I had to buy that two-hundred-dollar calligraphy set from Tokyo or wherever?”
“Kyoto.”
“Whatever.” Jim rubbed his face, making faint marks. “Chloe was way too young to die, and it’s just so weird the way it happened. I know this is hard to hear, but if I were you, I’d get ahold of that damn autopsy.” He raised an unruly eyebrow, his reddish-gray hairs a tangle. “I’d want to know exactly how it happened. I swear, she musta had a hairline fracture, something pre-existing, for a knock on the counter to do her in. Maybe an earlier concussion, one she didn’t know about, or even an aneurysm. What do you think?”
Mike needed a sounding board and he would swear Jim to secrecy, even from Laura. He was just about to tell him when Jim’s phone rang.
“Hold on a sec.” Jim slid his BlackBerry from the pocket of his lab coat and pressed the IGNORE button. “Sorry, day from hell. Go away.” He looked back up at Mike. “Anyway, so, where were we, hey, what do you think about the place?”
Mike changed his mind about telling him, at least for now. The moment had passed. “What gives? So we renting to this Lyon guy or what?”
“Okay, so Rick Lyon, he’s a good guy, outta D.C., I’d introduce you but he’s giving a seminar, beating the bushes. Anyway, I met him a couple months ago at Parents’ Night, his son’s in Alex’s class, and he starts telling me that kids’ sports injuries are blowing up, especially with the travel teams and everybody wanting scholarship money in the economy, the girls, too. I’m like, how do we get in on that, because our business is dropping off.”
Listening, Mike realized that Jim was just another Chatty, a superhero in charge, and he was the second banana here, too. The funny thing was, he didn’t mind. Maybe that was why he felt comfortable being the understudy, as a father. He didn’t like the spotlight. He didn’t want to be the sun.
“And of course, I’m seeing a problem down the line, because my mama didn’t raise no dummy, that people are putting off the bunionectomies because of the money.” Jim barely took a breath. “Lyon’s telling me he needs room in the western subs to expand, and I’m like, I got room and we can do that with our eyes closed, it’s the same procedures in a sports-medicine wrapper. So now the cases are through the roof, and the system administrators in Philly are starting to take notice…”
Mike zoned out as Jim went through the metrics about how they made so much the past quarter, on top of base
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