Palindrome Read Free Page B

now represent."
    Weakly, "What?"
    "I won't keep you in suspense, Henry. It was Bake Ramsey."
    Involuntarily, "Jesus Christ."
    "He very nearly succeeded in the attempt. I've just seen the woman; she will never be the same again, physically or mentally."
    "Who knows about this, Al?" Hoyt was recovering.
     "I know about it, Henry; everybody wants to know. I'm not sure how long I can keep a lid on it."
    "It's a little early in the game for threats, isn't it, Al? You and I have to talk."
    "You and I and Bake Ramsey, tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock in my office. Not a minute later. I don't want any team management there. I'll expect you to be authorized to act."
    "I don't know about that."
    "Oh, you've got plenty of time to explain it to them, Henry. If they balk, tell them that this attack probably took place because the team has been shooting old Bake up with steroids since well before last season."
    "That's very dangerous talk, Al."
    "It certainly is, Henry. Just two more things, then I'll say good night: I want you to tell Baker Ramsey who I am, just in case he doesn't know; then I want you to tell him that if he goes anywhere near his wife, I'll make sure he doesn't see the light of day for the next twenty years."
    "Al..."
    "Yes, Henry, I know; that's a threat. You just make sure Ramsey understands I can make good on it. I'll see you tomorrow at two. Schaefer hung up and gripped the steering wheel. Sweat from his palms seeped into the soft leather. Once in maybe three or four years, he got to talk like that to a senior partner in an establishment law firm. It was better than sex. Al Schaefer winged his way home.

CHAPTER 2
    Raymond Ferguson sat next to the bed and looked at the sleeping Elizabeth Barwick. He was glad she was asleep; it gave him a moment to accustom himself to the transformation of the loveliest woman he knew into a swollen, discolored lump of flesh. He willed himself to stop feeling sorry for her—she would know it in a minute if he did, and she would hate him for it. He took a deep breath and touched her hand. "Lizzie? It's Ray."
    She opened her eyes as much as she could. "Hey, Ray," she said. She sounded as if she were smiling. He fixed his eyes on hers as she pressed the button that raised the bed.
    "I hear you're going to live."
    "You bet. Have you got something for me?"
    Ferguson smiled and produced a package wrapped in expensive paper. "First copy," he said.
    She took the package and ripped it open, ignoring the beautiful paper.
    "The Beauty of Sport," she read, "Photographs of Athletes by Elizabeth Barwick." She turned the pages rapidly, bringing the book close to her face. "The printing is gorgeous," she said excitedly. "You were right to take a chance on those people."
    "I'll use them again and again,"
    Ferguson said. "Are you happy with it?"
    "Ray, it's just wonderful; you've made me look great."
    "You've made yourself look great. By the way, good news: the Bobcats have bought ten thousand copies. They're offering them as a premium for season ticket buyers."
    "That is good news," she said. "Maybe after today they won't want them."
    "Don't worry about it," he said. "I've got them nailed for the order." He looked around the room. "They said you didn't want flowers; is there anything else I can get you?"
    "Not at the moment. I'll let you know."
    "Listen, Liz, have you given any thought to what you're going to do next?"
    "Crawl into a hole for a while, I think."
    "I've had an idea I was going to talk with you about, and maybe this is as good a time as any."
    "Shoot."
    "You know Cumberland Island?"
    "Only the name. It's near Sapelo Island, isn't it?"
    "No, farther south. It's the southernmost of the barrier islands off Georgia, just north of the Florida line. An amazing place."
    "What makes it amazing?"
    "Well, most of the barrier islands have been developed, often overdeveloped, like Hilton Head and St. Simons, but Cumberland has been in the hands of one family, the Drummonds, since the late