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moment. “Your brother never changes. None of them do. Never lose their hair or gain any weight.”
    “They all have weird alpha male eating disorders. Tons of protein, wheatgrass smoothies, hours on the rowing machine. Trust me, they’re trim, but miserable.”
    Mark kept looking at it. “I haven’t heard anything, but I could ask Vanessa. You know she can be discreet.”
    She has to be,
Fina thought,
given that she’s married to a criminal.
    The waitress returned with a full tray. She gracefully dipped down to her knees, a move that smacked of strip club, and balanced the tray on the edge of the coffee table. She slid a large plate with a slab of steak, fingerling potatoes, and a bloodred tomato salad in front of Mark. Next to it, she placed a jar of ketchup and a cup of black coffee. Fina took the glass of water she was offered and cradled it between her hands. She waited for the waitress to leave.
    “This may just be some tantrum on Melanie’s part,” Fina said.
    “Sure, I understand.” Mark cut a large piece of steak, and Fina watched the pale pink juices dribble onto the plate before he popped it into his mouth. “How about I let you know if I hear anything?”
    “That would be great. I appreciate it.” Fina sat back in her chair and sipped her drink. She didn’t want to spend any more time schmoozing than she had to, but just like the business world, the world of crime and punishment has its rules of etiquette. “So how are Vanessa and the kids?” she inquired politely.
    Thereby followed a fifteen-minute monologue about little Bobby’s recent triumph on the soccer field, an exploit that a casual listener might have mistaken for a World Cup final given Mark’s play-by-play description. Fina’s eyes were just starting to glaze over when Mark took the last bite of tomato and wiped his hands with his napkin.
    “It’s always good to see you, Fina,” he said, dismissing her.
    “You too. Thanks for keeping your ear to the ground.”
    Fina drained her water and slipped the photo into her bag.
    Mark covered her hand with his. “You need anything, you’ll let me know?”
    Sometimes, Mark seemed like such a caricature that Fina had trouble taking him seriously, but then she’d remember that he was rumored to be responsible for a few murders. There was nothing funny about him.
    “Of course. I appreciate the offer. Give my love to Vanessa and the kids.”
    The bodyguards parted like the Red Sea, and she walked toward the escalator. She knew that Mark and his goons were examining her butt, so she added an extra little swing to give them a thrill.

    The red-faced uakari monkey was the subject of this episode of
Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom
. Bev smoothed the blanket over Chester, sat down in the recliner, and picked up a copy of
Southern Living
magazine. She took off her shoes and rotated her ankles, which were sore. The nurses had just changed shifts, and the replacement peeked in to check on Chester.
    “He’s fine,” Bev said without looking up from her magazine. “I’ll let you know if he needs anything.”
    The young woman went down the hall in the direction of the small bedroom that had become the base for all the home health care workers. Initially, Bev considered putting Chester’s hospital bed there, but it would have left space for little else. Instead, she pushed back the furniture in the living room and that became his room. One of the muscular male nurses had moved a TV in and placed it on a side table. Bev wasn’t a big fan of TV, but Chester seemed to enjoy the nature and history programs, and it was better than having him staring into space for hours on end.
    She supposed they could move and get more space, maybe someplace out in the suburbs, but Bev loved their Beacon Hill condo. The white stone exterior and curlicue railings reminded her ever so slightly of her childhood in the South. Not the same as Mississippi, obviously, but it was the best she could do.
    She also didn’t