The latest SJ Spenser novel

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I've noticed other authors taking a crack at continuing Robert Parker's Spenser series and I'm disappointed no one asked us because we do it as well as anybody. I got to thinking about this while reading the Elmore Leonard thread. I don't think we'd do a Leonard book quite as well.

Anyway, I'll start:


1
I stood in my office, admiring myself in the full-length mirror. I looked good. I always do. Susan even said so.
Hawk walked in. His bald head gleamed. But there was an odd look in his eyes.
"We got us a problem," he said.
Do tell, I said.
He did
 
"Chauncey's in trouble," said Hawk, his head gleaming like a great obsidian block.

Chauncey was the toughest man I knew, present company excepted. Hawk stood silently then, a t-shirt from an off-broadway revival of "Guys and Dolls" stretched tightly across his chest.

"Well, sho' nuff, we should do something," I said. "Merlot?"

Hawk shook his head dismissively and walked out. I took my feet off the desk and followed.
 
We walked a couple of blocks in silence. Hawk was brooding. I took a few glances at my reflection as we walked past some shops on Boylston.
I did look good.
"What kind of trouble," I finally asked.
"Bad trouble," Hawk said. "Real bad trouble."
"Drugs?"
"No."
"Kiddie porn?"
"No."
"Women?"
"No."
This was going nowhere. I stole another glance. I still looked good. I was going to jackhammer Susan when I got home.
"What kind of trouble then"?
"The worst," Hawk said, shaking his gleaming bald head. "The absolute worst."
 
"So, I hear your friend is in trouble."
Susan glanced at me across the candlelight, eating a pea with a knife and fork.
"Indeed."
"How serious?"
I sipped my wine and stroked my chin. "Bad," I said.
"He posted a link to a story about teacher sex without a photo?"
"Worse."
"He referred to the Red Sox as 'we' in the presence of a sportswriter?"
"Even worse."
She raised an eyebrow, dubious. Susan finished her pea and excused herself to use the restroom. I turned on the TV news to drown out the sound of her forced retching. Pearl licked herself silently at my feet.
I saw the lead story, and my stomach dropped.
 
Despite the growing uneasiness, I was still able to give Susan everything she wanted and more. I'm good at it. She tells me all the time. I caught a glimpse in the mirror. I still looked good.
Pearl lay at the foot of the bed, marveling no doubt at my prowess.
I was up early in the morning. I leashed up Pearl and we went out and covered 10 miles in 40 minutes. Then I whipped up a gourmet breakfast that I devoured while Susan worked on her grape. I left her to clean up and no doubt dream about me while I grabbed my bag and headed to Henry's to meet Hawk.
He was in a lather as I held the heavy bag.
"I still don't believe it," he said as he laid a right to the bag's midsection. "We done told him and told him and he still goes ahead and does it."
"So what are we going to do?" I said.
"The only thing we can do," Hawk said, finishing off a flurry on the bag before he walked away.
 

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