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call I want to take in my office,” she said. “Could you watch the front of the store?”
    He nodded. “Sure.” He stood up. “You want to come in, talk some more, add to my discontent because I’ve never waded a bonefish flat?” he said to Rummie.
    Rummie shook his head. “Miles to go before I sleep, Stoney. You got the catalog and my card. Give me a call.”
    â€œAnd if you don’t hear from me,” said Calhoun, “you’ll call me, right?”
    Rummie smiled. “We got the best waders and boots in the world. I wouldn’t feel right if you and Kate didn’t stock them. I’ll call you.”
    They stood up and shook hands. Rummie headed for the parking area beside the shop. Calhoun went inside.
    There were a few customers milling around, mumbling to each other and stirring their forefingers around in the fly bins. A couple of them, guys who often dropped in during their lunch hours, looked up at Stoney and nodded by way of saying hello. Calhoun nodded back at them.
    He looked toward Kate’s glassed-in office at the rear of the store. He could see her with both elbows on her desk leaning forward holding the telephone tight to her ear. Her hair was spilling over the side of her face so that Calhoun couldn’t see her expression, but her neck and shoulders looked tense. He hoped to hell it wasn’t more bad news.
    Ten minutes later she opened her office door and came to the front of the shop. She was frowning and shaking her head.
    â€œWhat’s up, honey?” said Calhoun.
    â€œDamned if I know,” said Kate. “That was Mr. Gibson himself calling me. The bigwig from that big national string of rehab facilities? The man who smiles with no teeth, who just yesterday was telling me how they had to kick Walter out because the insurance had got cut off? Well, today Mr. Gibson is telling me how he personally got the Powers That Be—that’s what he called ’em, Stoney, the Powers That Be, all caps, as if they were some big damned church mucky-mucks or something—how he personally got them to reverse their decision, and now Mr. Gibson himself is guaranteeing that Walter will always have a place there in his Scarborough facility.”
    â€œWell,” said Calhoun. “That’s great.”
    Kate was still frowning. “It is. I know.”
    â€œThe best kind of news.”
    â€œAnnie said she was going to make some calls,” said Kate. “She said it wasn’t right and she’d do her damnedest to get it straightened out, but I didn’t believe it’d be that easy.”
    â€œWhat’s right is right,” said Calhoun. “This is right. Don’t matter how it came to be, does it?”
    Kate looked at him and smiled. “No, I guess it doesn’t. It’s a giant relief. I just don’t understand what happened, that’s all.”
    Thank the Man in the Suit
, thought Calhoun.
He created the problem, just to show me that he could, and then he solved it. Damn him.
    Calhoun went over to Kate and touched her hand. “I’m glad about it,” he said, “no matter why it happened. You have a good time with Annie last night?”
    Kate gave his hand a quick a squeeze, then stepped away from him. She didn’t like to show their relationship in the shop, especially when there were customers around. “We got good and drunk was about all,” she said. “Gotta admit I’m feeling alittle queasy today. Annie’s a lot of fun, but I never honestly thought she was such a hot-shit lawyer. I gotta call her, tell her what’s going on, thank her.”
    Calhoun smiled. “You should definitely do that.”
    Â 
    Noah Moulton showed up around three that afternoon. Kate was behind the counter at the front of the store, and Calhoun was talking to a customer about the new line of Loomis fly rods. He watched as Noah glanced at Kate, then spotted