It also appears certain from books, newspaper clippings, e-mails, and other material discovered in Crittenden’s basement, that it was he, identifying himself as Walden, who had shotgunned and critically wounded Stuart Gorman in the days following the outdoor writer’s release from jail after charges that he had drowned his wife had been dropped in favor of Assemblyman Conley.
In a chilling bit of irony, Mr. Gorman, who professes himself completely recovered from the assassination attempt (although he still walks with a pronounced limp), will be signing copies of new paperback editions of his three books, Reflections on a Lake, The Mysterious Stream, and Healed by Water, at 7:00 this Friday night at Book Passage in the Ferry Building.
Gina waited back among the shelves until the other customers had gone. There had been close to a hundred of them. Stuart remained seated alone at the small writing table, pulling copies of his books over from the pile on his left and signing them one by one, methodically, moving them to a growing pile on the right as he finished. Finally, she came up to him. “Hey.”
He broke a smile. “Hey, yourself. I’d get up and give you a hug, except I’m still having a little trouble with the hip. How are you, Gina?”
“I’m good, Stuart. How about you?”
“Getting by. It’s been a bit of a year, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah. I read about the wedding, too. It’s kind of what made me decide to come down and say hi. That and Jeff’s article reminding me.”
“I’m glad you did.” He shrugged. “It’s weird. I can’t seem to avoid making the news anymore. Beware of what you wish for.”
“I never thought you wanted fame.”
“No. I never wanted money. Fame was all right. Fame opens doors. It’s okay.”
“And how’s Debra?”
“She’s good.” He shrugged, perhaps with some embarrassment. “We’re good. I never thought I’d marry my wife’s sister, but there you go. I never thought I’d get tried for murder, either.”
“You never did,” Gina said.
He shrugged. “Close enough. Anyway, the whole Debra thing. She’s been good with Kymberly. I never thought I’d say that, either. I’m starting to think there might be hope for her. Maybe even me getting shot wasn’t all a bad thing. It made her realize she could lose me too, and she finally didn’t want that. She’s even back at school.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.”
“It is good,” he said. For a moment, a silence built. “And you’ll be glad to hear I’ve finished the new book.”
“So you said.”
“You were here all along? Tonight, I mean?”
“Hiding out in the back. I didn’t want to get in the way of your talk. It’s a little bit of a different title for you, isn’t it? The Imposter Syndrome.”
“Yeah. Breaking out of fishing psychology and into true self-help. It’s a bit of a leap, but my publisher thinks it’s a winner. It’s the idea that came to me in the courtroom that day, you know. You remember?”
“I remember you getting it. Not what it was, though.”
“Well, you’ll have to read the book, but it’s all about figuring out why I felt like I had to keep protecting Kym, instead of confronting her and trying to help her deal with her problems. It was because I couldn’t really do anything else except write, and writing’s one of those things—sometimes you lose the sense that it has any real intrinsic value. So if I can’t do anything else, and what I can do doesn’t have any real quantitative worth, what became important was the illusion that I was at least a good father. Raising a successful child is something you can point at that you’ve done.”
“But you are a successful writer, and it sounds like you’re on the way to having raised a successful child.”
“Well, let’s hope,” he said. “Maybe. Anyway, the book takes off from there and goes off on my usual tangents. I got something out of writing it, and that’s what’s important. That and keeping things together with the family.” Suddenly remembering, he squinted up at her. “And how’s your writing going? Still at it?”
“Actually,” Gina couldn’t keep some pride out of her voice, “I just finished mine, too. It’s probably no good, but I least I got to the end.”
“That’s the hardest part. Now you just go back and fix everything you don’t like.”
Gina laughed. “That’s all, huh?”
“Pretty much. But I’ll bet you won’t need to do too much. Not if you did trial scenes like you did at my hearing.”
“Well…that’s nice of you to say, but we’ll see. Anyway, I just had to come down and make sure you were okay and say hi. I’m so happy for you. You deserve a little peace.”
“And the only reason I’ve got any is because of you. Don’t think I don’t realize that.”
Gina looked down at her former client. She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Stuart. Stay out of trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “That’s my new motto.”
Gina had started on the vigorous circle hike around the lake at a little after noon, and now, coming into sight of her camp, the sun was just about to go down behind the mountains. Her critic was still sitting where she’d left him three hours ago, the stack of pages next to him telling her practiced eye that he was probably getting pretty close to the end.
No way was she going to interrupt him now, so she cut off the trail and walked down to the lake. She stood still for several minutes on the shoreline, drinking in the beauty around her, never tiring of its ability to refresh and nourish her. Then, sitting on a boulder, she undid her shoelaces and pulled off her hiking boots and socks. Hot and sweaty, she unbuttoned her shirt and dropped it and her shorts to the ground, then got rid of her underwear.
The first few steps into the cold water were shocking, as they always were, but she walked through the shallows, grinning like an idiot, until it was deep enough to let her dive. She stayed underwater, eyes open, for as long as she could, pushing the water behind her with strong and broad strokes, skimming over the seaweed, hoping to catch sight of a trout.
When she came back up, she treaded water for a second, and gloried in another eyeful of wilderness. But with the water temperature under fifty degrees, she couldn’t stay in it too long, so she went under again and pulled for shore. When she got to where she knew she could stand, she stopped and surfaced.
He was standing on the shore, holding her pages.
“It’s great,” he said.
“You really think so?” She was coming toward him. “I want the real truth.”
“I just gave you the real truth. It’s fantastic. I couldn’t put it down. It’s really good, Gina. I mean it.”
She was out of the water now, standing right in front of him. “You’re not just saying it because you’re hoping I’m going to let you kiss me, are you?”
“Would that work?”
“No. I’d be able to tell you were lying.”
“But I’m not lying.”
“All right, then, Wyatt Hunt,” she said. “Then you can kiss me.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
WRITING AND PUBLISHING A BOOK IS not so solitary an endeavor. It takes a whole lot of friends, advisors, helpers, editorial and marketing folks. I’m very fortunate that the whole gang working and interacting in various ways on my books takes such a proprietary and committed role in the finished product.
This time out, I had some early, critical story help I’d like to specially acknowledge from Bob Zaro, who gave me the initial idea that hit the starter button. Also, right at the beginning, Michael W. Chapman, MD, gave me some great medical insights as well as an insider’s perspective on some of California’s alpine lakes. For other medical and business issues that turn up in the book, I’d like to thank John Chuck, Oliver Stanton and his partner Peter Kolbeck; Mark Detzer, PhD (and his bride, Kathryn Lescroart Detzer) and of course my continuing guru for medical overview and martini mixing, Peter S. Dietrich, MD, MPH. Even wi
th all this help, errors sometimes have their way of creeping into the text, and if they do, they are all entirely the fault and responsibility of the author.
Closer to home, my children, Justine and Jack, continue to inform every part of my creative process. Anita Boone, assistant extraordinaire, does everything and more, perfectly every time. Rick Montgomery helps keep the passion going for writing, music, food and most of the other good things in life. Frank and Gina Seidl keep the party going. Don Matheson, perennial best man, livens up many and many a day. My great friend the brilliant writer Max Byrd is a constant source of inspiration, wisdom and advice. Karen Hlavacek once again did her proofreading magic with the galleys. Tom Hedtke and Vicki Lorini make sure I don’t forget that it’s okay, even good, to be a working writer in a competitive world.
Tom Steinstra, fishing buddy, television star and, not so incidentally, outdoor author and writer for the San Francisco Chronicle (“Men love him, fish fear him”) was a huge inspiration for this particular book. Obviously, Stuart Gorman and Tom are nowhere near the same person, but I can honestly say that if I didn’t know Tom, there would have been no Stuart. So thanks, Tom—your very existence helped me get it all off the ground.
As always, Al Giannini is my main collaborator. I’m not a lawyer, and these books wouldn’t be technically accurate if it weren’t for Al’s devotion, insight, brains and just plain hard work. Additionally, he’s there for those pesky everyday questions without which the book simply couldn’t progress. My books wouldn’t be the same without Al’s input, and I remain intensely grateful for his involvement in them and in my life.
At Dutton, my deepest thanks go to Mitch Hoffman—a superb editor and great guy. It’s a tricky business working with someone whose job is to make you better, and Mitch pulls it off with a cheerful élan and intelligence that is a joy to work with. The rest of the Dutton/Signet team is also a pretty spectacular group of people—Brian Tart, Lisa Johnson, Kara Welsh, Rick Pascocello, Susan Schwartz, Erika Kahn, Robert Kempe, and Rich Hasselberger.
As has been my habit for the last few books, I’ve named some characters in this one to support the generous contributions of individuals to various charities. In this regard, thanks to Kelley Gray Rusnak (Court Appointed Special Advocates, or CASA); to Trish Schooley, for the character Trevor Stratton (California State University at Fullerton); and to Peggy Furth (Imagine 2006 Charity Wine Auction) for the character Frederick Furth.
Finally, my agent and friend, Barney Karpfinger, is just the best in every way. I wouldn’t have a career, or half as much fun, without him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Lescroart is the author of seventeen previous novels, including The Hunt Club, The Motive, The Second Chair, The First Law, The Oath, The Hearing, and Nothing But the Truth. He lives with his wife and two children in Northern California.
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