“I’m fine,” Tucker said. She always made him feel like he’d just struck out in his first Little League game and she was consoling him with milk and cookies. The fact that he’d once tried to seduce her doubled the humi-liation. “Jake told me that you’re having me moved to Houston. Thank you.”

“I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” She patted his hand. “You sure you’re feeling well enough for a talk?”

Tucker nodded. He wasn’t buying the outpouring of warm fuzzies she was selling. He’d seen her doing business on the plane.

“That’s good, honey,” Mary Jean said, rising and looking around the room for the first time. “I’ll have some flowers sent up. A touch of color will brighten things up, won’t it? Something fragrant too. The constant smell of disinfectant must be disturbing.”

“A little,” Tuck said.

She wheeled on her heel and looked at him. Her smile went hard. Tuck saw wrinkles around her mouth for the first time. “Probably reminds you of what a total fuckup you are, doesn’t it?”

Tucker gulped. She’d faked him out of his shoes. “I’m sorry, Mary Jean. I’m…”

She raised a hand and he shut up. “You know I don’t like to use profanity or firearms, so please don’t push me, Tucker. A lady controls her anger.”

“Firearms?”

Mary Jean pulled the Lady Smith automatic out of her purse and leveled it at Tucker’s bandaged crotch. Strangely, he noticed that Mary Jean had chipped a nail drawing the gun and for that, he realized, she really might kill him.

“You didn’t listen to me when I told you to stop drinking. You didn’t listen when I told you to stay away from my representatives. You didn’t listen when I told you that if you were going to amount to anything, you had to give your life to God. You’d better damn well listen now.” She racked the slide on the automatic. “Are you listening?”

Tuck nodded. He didn’t breathe, but he nodded.