It was sad, and yet all Roy could do was open his wallet, look into the darkened, grizzled face that housed a pair of dimming, vacuous eyes that indicated the owner was not all there, and say, “How about I get you some food?”

The Captain nodded, pushing a huge hand through his tangle of filthy gray and white hair. He wore tattered gloves that had once been white but were now even blacker than his face. As they trudged along together Roy looked down and noted that the Captain’s shoes were really pieces of cardboard held together with twine. He had survived the previous winter and the heavy spring rains, and the night chills were gone now. Yet Roy wondered, as the Captain coughed up some phlegm and spit it out into the Potomac, if the older man could survive another year out here. As he gazed at the Captain’s jacket and saw the Combat Bronze and other medals on his chest, including the designation for two Purple Hearts, he thought that a country’s warriors deserved better than this.

The Captain dutifully waited outside the café, like an obedient dog, as Roy bought the food. He came back out, handed the bag over, and watched as the Captain settled down on the curb and ate it all right there, drinking down the coffee last. He wiped his mouth with the paper bag and rose.

“What size shoe do you take?” Roy asked.

The Captain looked down at his feet. “Big. I think.”

“Me too. Come on.”

They walked back to the office building and into the underground garage. From the backseat of his Audi, Roy pulled out a pair of nearly new basketball shoes. “Try these on.” He tossed them to the Captain, who was quick-handed enough to snare them both.

He sat down on the cold floor of the garage and stripped off his cardboard and twine. When Roy saw the blackened, raw skin festered with lumps and green-colored cuts, he looked away.

“Good to go,” the Captain said a minute later. Roy was sure they would have fit if the man had had to cut off his toes. “You sure, Roy? Bet these cost probably a million dollars, right?”

“Not quite and I’ve got plenty.” He studied the Captain. If he gave him cash it would go for booze or some street drugs that the Captain didn’t need in his system. He had driven him to shelters on three occasions, but the man had walked out of each one within a day or so. Roy was not going to take him to live at his condo. His neighbors would probably not approve, and there was no guarantee that the former military man would not suddenly go nuts and use Roy for a cutting board.

“Come around in a couple days and I’ll have some more stuff for you, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” the Captain said amiably, giving him another snappy salute.

Roy suddenly noticed something missing and wondered why he hadn’t before. “Where’s your cart?” Like some homeless people, the Captain kept everything he had in an old rusted shopping cart with two busted front wheels. You could hear him coming a mile away just from the screech of metal.

“Some pricks stole it!”

“Do you know who?”

“Damn Vietcong. I’ll catch ’em. And then. Look.” The Captain reached in his pocket and pulled out a large clasp knife. It looked military-issued.

“Don’t do that, Captain. Let the police handle it.”

The Captain just stared at him. Finally he waved a big hand at Roy. “Thanks for the shoes.”

CHAPTER 24

UNFORTUNATELY, her mother’s husband, Timothy, was there. Fortunately, he wasn’t wearing a kilt. To Mace, he looked like a person of leisure who desperately wanted to be perceived as a man of the land with a British twist. This translated into an outfit consisting of tweeds, an old-fashioned shotgun vest with holders for the shells, a cute pocket kerchief that exactly matched his checked shirt, and nearly knee-high brown leather riding boots, though there wasn’t an equine in sight. When Mace saw him she felt her cheeks begin to quiver and had to look away quickly before the next sound that was heard from her was a snort.

An older woman in a maid’s uniform brought coffee and little sandwiches out to the faux English conservatory they were sitting in. She looked as though she would rather be driving tenpenny nails through her skull with a hammer than playing maid for Timothy and Dana. The sandwiches weren’t nearly as wonderful as the spread Abe Altman had offered. Still, Mace filled her belly and had her caffeine fix.

The little Yorkie, whose name Mace had been told was Angelina Fernandina, sat on a plump pillow in front of her own little gold tray of high-end vittles, happily nipping away with teeth the size and shape of splinters. Mace inclined her head at precious Angelina. “Do you dress her in clothes too?”

Dana answered, “Only when we travel. Our jet makes her cold.”

“Poor thing,” said Mace.

“So does Beth still have a menagerie of misfits?”

“Just me and Blind Man, but he’s going strong. Probably be alive and well when you’re planting old Angie there in the dirt.”

Timothy sucked in a breath at this remark and gave Angelina a little pat with the back of his hand, which told Mace that he didn’t actually like dogs, hair-teased or not.

“So, how’s the rural aristocratic life treating you both?” Timothy daintily patted his lips with a monogrammed napkin and glanced at Dana, apparently waiting for her to respond.

“Timothy has been elected to head up the local planning commission. It’s an important position because you wouldn’t believe what people want to do out here development-wise. It’s a travesty.”

You mean like putting up a twenty-thousand-square-foot Scottish castle smack in the middle of farmland and raising your working-class neighbors’ property taxes tenfold?Mace thought. But she said, “Congratulations, Timothy. That’s great.”

His chest puffed out a bit as he swallowed the last bit of sandwich. When he spoke it was as though he were addressing an adoring audience of thousands. “I will endeavor to carry out my duties to the best of my abilities. I take the stewardship that has been granted to me very seriously.”

God, you are the biggest prick.“I’m sure you do,” Mace said pleasantly.

Dana said, “So what are your plans, Mason?”

Mace slowly put down her coffee cup. “I’d actually considered stripping on Internet webcams for food, but then a job offer came along.”

“What sort of job offer?”

“An assistant to a college professor.”

“Why would a college professor want you as an assistant?” scoffed her mother.

“He’s blind, on a tight budget, and I’m apparently cheaper than a seeing-eye dog.”

“Will you please be serious for once in your life, Mason!”

Okay, I tried playing patty-cakes and I don’t like it.“What does it matter to you what I do? I’m sure we can agree that you’re a few decades late on playing mommy.”

“How dare you-”

Mace could feel her ears burning. She didn’t want to go there. She really didn’t. “Oh, I always dare. So just back off, lady.”

“Then let me explain to you quite clearly why it is my business. If you can’t support yourself, guess who you’ll be running to with your hand out?”

Mace formed fists so tight all of her finger joints popped. She leaned into Dana until their noses were only separated by a bare inch. “I would gnaw off my hand before I came to you or Scotch Bonnet Boy over there for one freaking dime.”

A scarlet-faced Timothy scrambled to his leather-booted feet. “I think I’ll go do some yoga. I feel my balance is off.”

Dana immediately put out her hand for him to take. “All right, dear. But remember, we have dinner tonight with the mayor and his wife at the French Hound.”

The moment he’d fled the room, Dana whirled on her youngest daughter. “It’s nearly impossible to believe, but I think prison has actually made you worse.”