Saints and Sinners

Chapter Thirty-Eight

July 2065

The Rosen Estate

Sanibel Island

Florida

Caris Fletcher surrendered to the inevitable. She helped her husband into a wheelchair and pushed him outside onto the porch, so that he could smoke. She had suggested that after two weeks in various hospitals, where smoking was strictly forbidden, he might have done most of the hard work on the road to kicking the habit, but he disagreed, quite vehemently. And he was home. Seeing him back in his proper place, with a view of the lake and a beer in his hand, was so good that she could not begrudge him his addiction. Not that she told him that of course, she fully intended to get her own back in a thousand little ways.

"You can only have one beer, mind?" She said, plumping his chair cushions as he lit up and inhaled with a sigh of pleasure. "Opioids and alcohol do not mix...and we need to start weaning you off them soon...so, you will be in more pain?"

"Something to look forward to, at least...did you acquire this caring bedside manner in the convents by any chance?" He grinned as she fanned his smoke out of her face.

"No...in the convents, my patients did as they were told?"

"You haven't given me my phone?"

"You are not working...you are recuperating." Caris reminded him, leaning back against the rail and giving him the look that said do not mess with me. He grinned again, giving her the look that said Gideon would give him more beer as soon as her back was turned, and that she would eventually give in about his phone. "You impossible man!"

"But indestructible...and cute?"

"You are not cute."

"Charming then...the nurses were charmed?"

"Young enough to be your grandchildren..." Caris said, almost under her breath, as the Prof came out of the house, predictably carrying two beers. "Oh, I give up...but don't overdo it...please...you are as weak as a kitten?"

"She is right, you know...you look like shit?" Palmer said, after Caris had gone back into the house. He sat down beside his friend and put the beers on the table.

"And I feel like shit...but better than I did...and I need to know what is going on, Prof? It is time to get back on the horse?" Fletcher insisted before taking another blissful drag. The bullet had gone straight through him, missing his vital organs but making a mess of various bones and veins. He had almost bled out on the street, but Grace had used her head and did enough to keep him alive until the paramedics arrived. It had been touch and go for two days but he had pulled through, with Caris by his side. It was her first time off the island. "What the fuck is happening?"

"The treaty is signed, and half the money paid in full...not much progress on the Symonds front, but we have given Delacorte our recommendations," Palmer replied, reaching for the pack of cigarettes himself. "And we found ten billion in cash...so, a contribution has already been made?"

"Any movement on human rights?"

"Parliament has risen for the summer, Norman...September will see the bill get its first reading if all goes to plan?"

"Slow progress...as always?" Fletcher commented, resting back against his cushions as the effort of sitting up was a bit much for him, for any length of time.

"And the FBI have got nowhere with the shooting...not a sniff."

"Professionals," Fletcher grunted, wincing as he shifted in his seat, just trying to get more comfortable. "Casings collected inside the car and the hit attempted in moving traffic...the CCTV cameras in the area lost them within two blocks."