Free The Adventurer by Diana Whitney Page B

commit suicide. ” Jessica felt like she had a stomach full of lead. She’d always believed Devon to be an irresponsible thrill seeker; now she wondered if he considered life on the edge of danger to be an act of defiance or an escape from perceived tyranny. In either case, she’d misjudged both father and son. The precipice between them was wider than she’d feared and deeper than she ever could have imagined. Now she wasn’t certain there was anything that could bridge that gap of mistrust and betrayal. That made her very sad. Devon’s fingers flexed over the telephone in his father’s library. He withdrew his hand, wiped his palm on his jeans and stretched out on the tufted burgundy leather couch. This had always been Devon’s favorite room, a secluded enclave walled with row upon row of richly bound books. This place, smelling of ripe leather and the wisdom of ages, was where young Devon’s imagination had once soared to faraway places, to endless adventure. No matter how broken his spirit had been, this room had always made him whole. Now he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, absorbing residual vibrations of happier times. A drowsy warmth radiated from his solar plexus, a peaceful courage that finally made its lazy way to his limbs.
    Before the comforting resolve faded, he picked up the phone and dialed.
    Roberto answered on the third ring. “Well, whatdaya know, ” Devon drawled. “I didn’t think the feds ever let their crack prosecutors spend Saturdays at home. Shouldn’t you be out busting terrorists or something ?” An ageless chuckle filtered through the line. “It’s been a slow week, mi herma no Besides, the NBA playoff is on cable” “Ah, that explains it. I wouldn’t want you to miss the Bullsjust to keep the streets safe. ” “A man’s got to keep his priorities straight, ” Roberto agreed. “So how’s your dad doing? “
    “He’ll be coming home on Monday. “
    “That’s great. Must be a load off your mind. ” “Yeah. A big one. ” Devon hooked a hand behind his neck, realizing how much he’d missed hearing his friend’s voice. “So, what’s Larkin up to these days? Last time I saw him, he’d just hung a shingle with some Beverly Hills psychiatric group. ” “That didn’t last long, ” Roberto said. “The money was good but he wasn’t happy being a star shrink, so he opened a practice in Baldwin Park where he can serve-and I’m quoting now-” the people who need him most. “
    “Do I detect a hint of wry ness Roberto muttered a frustrated oath.
    “Come on, man. People in the barrio don’t give a bleep about repressed childhood memories or sagging self-esteem. All they want is to work a decent job, have enough food on the table and get through the day without stopping a bullet. ” “It’s tough out there, ” Devon agreed. “Maybe Larkin wants to help people deal with the violence and take control of their lives. ” A silent moment was punctuated with a long-suffering sigh. “Larkin doesn’t know what he wants. It’s been four years since the divorce, time for him to hoist up his shorts and get on with his own life. ” A lump rose in Devon’s chest. After all the yean, none of them had changed much. Roberto was still charging headlong into life, muscling through obstacles without fear of consequence. And he was still angry. Devon knew that Roberto wasn’t unsympathetic to Larkin’s plight, but he was obviously frustrated at his inability to help.
    Unfortunately, no one could help Larkin, not even his best friends.
    After years of punishing himself for his parents ‘ divorce, the breakup of his own marriage had nearly pushed Larkin over the edge. That was, Devon thought, yet another solid argument on why intimate relationships should be avoided like the plague. Roberto’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Lark has always listened to you.
    Maybe you could talk to him. How long are you going to be in town? “
    Devon’s mouth was suddenly dry enough