Page 56 of Paranoia

Doyle texted,Bennett’s tough.

I’ll send you some help.

Can they be trusted?

No names. Just backup.

So he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything even if he got caught.

Doyle considered it. He rarely worked with partners. When he first got into the business, after his stint in the military, some of his government employers would send a second along. They were rarely much help. He always felt like they were there to snitch more than anything else.

Doyle tried to look on the other side of the coin. If he lined everything up properly, maybe he could have his partner take the shot. That wouldn’t feel as bad as Doyle pulling the trigger himself. Finally, he texted his employer and said,Okay. I’ll take the help.

The next text was right to the point.Nothing fancy. No collateral damage. Just eliminate him. I’ll text you where and when to meet your partner. Might be a couple of days. Keep on other jobs until you hear from me.It was followed by a smiley face emoji.

It didn’t lighten his mood.

Doyle was apprehensive about using someone else on this job. But he saw all the potential positives. This job and visit to New York had not turned out the way he thought it would. He had too many professional and personal ties here. But it had convinced Doyle he needed to step away from this business. He made up his mind. This was his last job.

He looked through his windshield one last time. Although the diner was busier than usual, Tammy was lingering at the end ofthe counter, chatting with the biker-looking dude. She even reached up and touched his scraggly beard. It made Doyle’s stomach turn.

He thought about what would happen if he took Tammy up on her offer. Now he realized he’d have to deal with the biker if he wanted to talk to Tammy again.

Maybe Bennett would be his second-to-last job.

CHAPTER 81

FOR ALL OF its notoriety, Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan made great efforts to put us at ease once we arrived at the emergency room. They weren’t fooling around with a pregnant woman who was experiencing extreme pain in her lower abdomen and a shortness of breath. The stress of the situation was starting to give me similar symptoms.

A young nurse held Mary Catherine’s hand for a moment and said, “We’re waiting to take you down for an ultrasound. I know it sounds crazy but try to relax. I think your shortness of breath is just anxiety.” He sounded pretty confident in his diagnosis.

Mary Catherine squeezed the young man’s hand. The nurse flinched. To his credit, he didn’t try to snatch his hand away from her. This was not his first rodeo.

We sat alone in the pleasant examination room. This didn’t seem like the kind of room where they brought gunshot victims.A padded chair sat in the corner. Instead of a hard examination table, there was a bed with a real mattress. Mary Catherine looked comfortable enough on the bed, which took up almost all the space in the room.

I tried to make small talk in an effort to keep Mary Catherine’s mind off things. Eventually, the conversation did come back to kids and family.

Mary Catherine said, “We’re going to be older parents, aren’t we?”

I laughed and said, “This is one of the few times the word ‘we’ doesn’t really apply. You’re quite a bit younger than me. I’m surprised no one has asked you if I’m your father.” That had the intended effect as Mary Catherine started to laugh.

I said, “I’m going to be one of the oldest fathers on the soccer field.”

“Oh, stop it. You know that’s not true.” She paused for a moment. “Mr. Dunkel down on the first floor is fifty with twin two-year-olds running around the house.”

“Okay, you got me. I just feel like I’m the oldest father.”

“You’re the best dad I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to see you interact with our baby.”

“I can’t wait either.”

Then Mary Catherine burped. Not a dainty Irish-lass burp. More of a professional-wrestler-after-eating-a-steak-dinner burp. It was impressive. I tried not to smile, but the embarrassed look on Mary Catherine’s face was priceless.

Then she did it again. Before she could say anything, she broke wind. Twice.

I worked hard to stay next to her. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done.

Then she looked at me and said, “Oh, my God!”

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