Miracle Cure by Harlan Coben

face.
    "So how do I look this evening, Michael?"
    "Nice."
    "Nice?" she repeated.
    Michael shrugged.
    "Kind of noncommittal," Cassandra noted.
    He shrugged again.
    Cassandra turned her attention to Harvey for the briefest of moments.
    "Dr. Riker, do you agree with Michael's assessment?"
    Harvey cleared his throat.
    "Uh, a lot of words come to mind, Cassandra. Nice is not one of them." She smiled briefly, her gaze back upon Michael.
    "Michael, can we talk for a moment?"
    "Look, Cassandra "
    "It's okay," Harvey interrupted.
    "I need to freshen my drink anyway."
    They both watched him walk away. In front of the ballroom the band Dr. Lowell had hired finished their rendition of Tie A Yellow Ribbon and moved on to Feelings. The lead singer sounded like a cat caught in a cuisinart.
    "Care to dance?" Cassandra asked.
    "No, thanks."
    "Why not?".
    "I'm not in the mood. What did you want to talk to me about?"
    "Stop being rude, Michael. I'll get to it in a minute. Pretend this is foreplay. You've heard of foreplay, haven't you?"
    "I think I read something about it in Cosmo."
    "Good. How do you like my dress?"
    "Divine. What do you want?"
    "Michael- "
    "You're not really going to start this shit again, are you?"
    "What shit?"
    "You know what shit, Cassandra."
    "I do?"
    "I'm married to Sara, for chrissake. You remember Sara blonde, petite, gorgeous, lousy taste in music, your sister."
    "So?"
    Michael rolled his eyes.
    "So why do you keep bothering me?
    Why do you always come on like some soap opera harlot?"
    She looked at him.
    "You don't approve of me, do you, Michael?"
    "It's not my place to approve or disapprove."
    "So what do you think of me then?" she asked, sipping her drink.
    "Really."
    "I think you're great," he said.
    "You're beautiful and funny and smart, but when you act like this" he shrugged "you kind of make me sick."
    "You're so sweet." Her hand reached out and rested on Michael's chest.
    Then she winked at him, leaned forward, and kissed his cheek.
    "What was that for?" he asked.
    She winked and pointed behind him.
    "That."
    Michael turned around. From the entrance way Sara stood watching them.
    A few hours ago George had successfully stolen a car and changed its license plate. He circled the area near the Lowell estate for a little while, making sure he knew every possible escape route before parking in an abandoned lot several miles away. He spread goose-liver pate on a piece of toast and poured himself a red wine. Very young.
    Beaujolais-Villages.
    A perfect picnic.
    When George had finished, he tidied the car, checked his watch, and drove back toward Dr. Lowell's mansion. He reached into the pocket of his Banana Republic khakis and took out his stiletto. He pressed the spring-release button with his thumb.
    The long, thin blade shot out with a sleek pop.
    Very nice.
    He closed the blade and put it back in his pocket. Enough games.
    Enough wine and song.
    It was time to go to work.

3.
    Harvey Riker helped himself to another martini.
    His third. Or was it his fourth? He was not sure.
    Harvey was not a heavy drinker, but lately he had found himself eyeing the bottle with new respect and desire. So much had happened the past few weeks. Why now? Why when they were on the brink of cornering and even destroying the AIDS virus did all this have to happen?
    He handed the glass back to the bartender.
    "Another," he said simply.
    The bartender hesitated but then took the glass.
    "Last one, okay?"
    Harvey nodded. The bartender was right. Enough was enough.
    He spun back toward the crowd. Michael was still talking with Cassandra. Man, she was something else. Talk about sizzle. A guy could get sunburn just standing near her. Make that sunstroke.
    And how old is she, Harvey? Young enough to be your daughter, I suspect.
    He shrugged. No harm in fantasizing, was there?
    But his mind quickly returned to the other matter. The matter.
    His bloodshot eyes scanned the room, but there was still no sign of Sara.
    "Hello, Dr. Riker."
    Harvey