by Ken Renshaw
Monday, as I entered my office, Zaza greeted me with a slight smile and said, "He has that look about him again. The desert flowers must be in bloom. Weekends, it must be Flopsy. No! I can't keep track. Flowers in order?"
I ignored her and said, "I am going to go to Rocky Butte for a court date on Thursday at nine o'clock, and to see Steve Manteo. Make me reservations for me to fly to Sacramento on Wednesday, getting there in the morning if possible. Get me a car, and make a reservation at some motel in Rocky Butte for one night. I'll be in court there on Thursday morning, and I'll drive out to see Steve in the afternoon. I'll play it by ear about where I'll stay Thursday night. Get me a flight back to LA in the early morning on Friday."
"Got it!" she replied. "Dore Hamilton is coming in tomorrow morning at nine, only for a half hour she said. She doesn't want a formal progress report. She said she wanted to discuss some security issues about the trial."
I spent the day in the office.