his thighs, engaged but relaxed in a way that only athletes and animals could relax. He fixed his attention on her as though he expected their conversation to be the highlight of his day.
She took out her voice-activated recorder and set it on the table in front of them, letting him know that despite his charm, this was official.
“I’m a bad note-taker,” she said, her standard line. “This helps me remember details.”
“Also me,” he said, then seemed to realize how funny it sounded and explained. “I also am a bad note=taker.”
“I know you have spoken to Detective Reylander,” she said and paused, indicating that he should take over the conversation.
“Ah. Yes. Officer Elvis.” He snarled his lip mocking Tommy, ready to have fun with her.
Darla smiled despite herself.
“He believes I am a murderer, the detective. But then many right-to-life advocates believe that of me.” He waited for her to acknowledge the humor in his remark.
A glance from her said, okay, yes, she got what he was doing, the double meaning.
“You just called him Reverend Jimmy,” she said. “How well did you know him?”
“It was what everybody called him. The truth is, we were hardly intimates. We had spoken at eachother several times but never to each other.”
For a second, she imagined Doctor Nicoletti as a gentleman farmer, somewhere in Tuscany, like Lulu said, standing in a field of grapes or olive trees, a scarf tied around his neck, dressed like a peasant, but with a certain dignity—the sort of man that seemed never to be overheated, even on the hottest days.
“I didn’t see you and Reverend Aldridge as intimates, but you could probably qualify as enemies.”
“I would say we were adversaries. I disliked what he stood for.”
“And what is that?”
“The right of men, particularly the men at the state legislature, to determine what a woman must do with her body and her life.”
Good answer , she thought. No wonder his patients like him .
“When was the last time you spoke at Reverend Aldridge, since you didn’t speak to him?”
“We exchanged un-pleasantries in the corridors of the legislature two weeks ago. We were both asked to give testimony regarding House Bill 674.”
“The bill that would, in effect, force this clinic to close or at least to cease from performing abortions.”
“If the bill passes, I would shut down the clinic.”
“So, your view of him, it wasn’t just a matter of philosophy. He threatened your livelihood.”
“I would be forced to leave Mississippi if it came to that. There are worse fates.” He offered her a quick smile, one confidant to another, as though he had figured out that they had similar views of life in the Magnolia State.
She chose not to dispute him.
“Do you remember what you and Reverend Aldridge said at each other?”
He leaned his head towards the recorder to be sure his answer was picked up. “Reverend Jimmy called me a baby killer. I called him an asshole,” he said in the calm matter-of-fact doctor voice.
Darla broke out laughing. He laughed with her. She hit the pause button.
“Wait. Let me get this straight. In Italian? You called him an asshole in Italian?” She was curious about the translation, the phrase for it in Italian and hoped he would repeat it now.
He caught what she was up to and shook his finger at her in mock scolding.
“I said it in English. I didn’t want there to be any confusion about my sentiments.”
They both chuckled again, the gentleman farmer from Northern Italy and the lady cop from South Philly.
She caught herself thinking that he’d be fun on a date, that is, if it turned out he wasn’t the murderer. Next thing she was scolding herself. Hugh dead six months, and she has a case of the hots for another guy.
She told herself to get back to work and released the pause button on the recorder, setting it back on the table.
“Detective Reylander says you don’t have an alibi for the time of the
She took out her voice-activated recorder and set it on the table in front of them, letting him know that despite his charm, this was official.
“I’m a bad note-taker,” she said, her standard line. “This helps me remember details.”
“Also me,” he said, then seemed to realize how funny it sounded and explained. “I also am a bad note=taker.”
“I know you have spoken to Detective Reylander,” she said and paused, indicating that he should take over the conversation.
“Ah. Yes. Officer Elvis.” He snarled his lip mocking Tommy, ready to have fun with her.
Darla smiled despite herself.
“He believes I am a murderer, the detective. But then many right-to-life advocates believe that of me.” He waited for her to acknowledge the humor in his remark.
A glance from her said, okay, yes, she got what he was doing, the double meaning.
“You just called him Reverend Jimmy,” she said. “How well did you know him?”
“It was what everybody called him. The truth is, we were hardly intimates. We had spoken at eachother several times but never to each other.”
For a second, she imagined Doctor Nicoletti as a gentleman farmer, somewhere in Tuscany, like Lulu said, standing in a field of grapes or olive trees, a scarf tied around his neck, dressed like a peasant, but with a certain dignity—the sort of man that seemed never to be overheated, even on the hottest days.
“I didn’t see you and Reverend Aldridge as intimates, but you could probably qualify as enemies.”
“I would say we were adversaries. I disliked what he stood for.”
“And what is that?”
“The right of men, particularly the men at the state legislature, to determine what a woman must do with her body and her life.”
Good answer , she thought. No wonder his patients like him .
“When was the last time you spoke at Reverend Aldridge, since you didn’t speak to him?”
“We exchanged un-pleasantries in the corridors of the legislature two weeks ago. We were both asked to give testimony regarding House Bill 674.”
“The bill that would, in effect, force this clinic to close or at least to cease from performing abortions.”
“If the bill passes, I would shut down the clinic.”
“So, your view of him, it wasn’t just a matter of philosophy. He threatened your livelihood.”
“I would be forced to leave Mississippi if it came to that. There are worse fates.” He offered her a quick smile, one confidant to another, as though he had figured out that they had similar views of life in the Magnolia State.
She chose not to dispute him.
“Do you remember what you and Reverend Aldridge said at each other?”
He leaned his head towards the recorder to be sure his answer was picked up. “Reverend Jimmy called me a baby killer. I called him an asshole,” he said in the calm matter-of-fact doctor voice.
Darla broke out laughing. He laughed with her. She hit the pause button.
“Wait. Let me get this straight. In Italian? You called him an asshole in Italian?” She was curious about the translation, the phrase for it in Italian and hoped he would repeat it now.
He caught what she was up to and shook his finger at her in mock scolding.
“I said it in English. I didn’t want there to be any confusion about my sentiments.”
They both chuckled again, the gentleman farmer from Northern Italy and the lady cop from South Philly.
She caught herself thinking that he’d be fun on a date, that is, if it turned out he wasn’t the murderer. Next thing she was scolding herself. Hugh dead six months, and she has a case of the hots for another guy.
She told herself to get back to work and released the pause button on the recorder, setting it back on the table.
“Detective Reylander says you don’t have an alibi for the time of the
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