Rapture

It was a clear, bright morning, but there was a brisk breeze coming off the Charles. She was watching him with curiosity and interest, he thought, rather than with any real suspicion. He felt safe and unworried, and although he didn't care for the subject, he hoped he could use it to reassure Bonnie in some way. Especially about himself.

"It was mistaken identity," he said.

"Do you have any doubts about that?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"Sometimes I wonder if ..."

"If it was someone your father knew?"

"Yes."

Jeff took his time cupping his hands and lighting a cigarette, then tossing the match aside before speaking.

"Of course that's a possibility," he allowed reasonably. "But then you have to look for a motive. Who were your father's enemies-that kind of thing. And from what I understand, your mother and you and the police couldn't think of any reason why someone would have wanted to ... do that. It's been quite a while now. Mistaken identity isn't nice. It's absurd, when you think about it. But it also makes a kind of sense. What else could it be? I thought you said yesterday that you did think it was mistaken identity. But obviously you don't. Okay, what do you suggest instead?"

He hadn't expected to say so much, but now he was pleased. The words had come naturally, and he could feel the confidence growing within him as he spoke. How long would it take to bury Sean, for Chrissake? It seemed to work, because Bonnie looked less sure of herself.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't have any thing ... not really, I guess. It's the not knowing that hurts.'

But you do know, if you let yourself," he said obscurely. 'It's hard, but it's the acceptance of death."

Too much, he thought immediately. She can't handle that yet. Still, it was good to get it said. Sooner or later she would realize he was right. For now, Bonnie had fallen silent and had a distant look on her face. She started walking again. Jeff kept up with her.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked, patting her back gently.

`Yeah, sure." She pushed across a smile. "You know what I'd really like though? A change of clothes."

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jeff cashed a few more traveler's checks, and they spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in downtown Boston. They walked from the Common to Faneuil Hall Marketplace and browsed leisurely from shop to shop, buying slices of pizza, cookies, and ice cream as they went. Jeff liked being out with Bonnie, and he felt safely anonymous in the crowds that thronged the Marketplace.

Later they toured the Computer Museum on Congress Street, near the waterfront. Bonnie seemed to enjoy it, which pleased Jeff, because it had been his idea and she'd been reluctant at first, hoping for something more exciting. As they came back past South Station, he babbled on about supercomputers, and she asked some intelligent questions. If I had the time, he thought, and I wanted to make a special project of it, I could get her out of biology and into advanced computer science for sure. Bonnie was raw talent, and a lot of it, just waiting to be developed. It was something to think about-if other things didn't work out right.

They wandered through Chinatown. Bonnie seemed to be steering them in a certain direction, and a few minutes later she stopped.

"Know where you are?" she asked.

"Sure. Chinatown."

"Anything else?"

"I give up. What?"

"Wang," Bonnie said, pointing to a large white building a block away. Yesterday's smirk was back on her face.

"Oh yeah," Jeff muttered. "So it is. Actually, that's the back of it, or the side. When I went there the other day, a taxi dropped me off in front, and I called for another cab when I was ready to leave, so . . ." He was aware that he was trying too hard to explain his lack of recognition, and shut his mouth.

"Of course," Bonnie said.

They resumed walking, and a few minutes later they came out onto Washington Street, which seemed to be lined with strip clubs, dingy bars, sex shops, and X-rated movies. The sidewalks were crowded with hustlers, pimps, hookers, tourists, the curious, the lonely, and the lost.

"The Combat Zone, I presume," Jeff said.

"That's right. Want to take in a show?"

'No thanks.'

"We could, you know. We'd get away with it."

"I thought you wanted to get some clothes," he reminded her, and made a point of studying his watch.

"You're right," she said reluctantly. "I don't know how early the stores close on Saturday. We better get over to Filene's." But she dawdled a moment more in front of a window display. "Any of those girls look better than me?" she asked. "What do you think?"

"No, none of them," Jeff replied with an indulgent smile. "Come on, now."

When they got to Filene's, Jeff slipped a small wad of money into Bonnie's hand and told her to put it in her pocket discreetly.