Today is a special day, she told herself, trying to hold on to that evanescent hope.
Downstairs, she made herself breakfast, listening to the sparrows and jays. She ate oatmeal, because that was the current health fad, which should keep her alive to suffer the indignities of an undeservedly long life, and then she dressed carefully. She needed to present an aspect of mental and physical health. She wanted to look important.
Today she would present a progress report to her thesis committee at the University of California, Santa Cruz. She repacked her burgundy briefcase, making sure she had everything, and went out to the Subaru. The mountains lay gentle under the morning sun, and in the quietness she began to feel a strong urge not to go out there to the land of freeways and people.
Get a grip, she told herself, you’re getting phobic. She decided to get it over with efficiently and get out. There were some problems with the study right now that she didn’t want to get into with the committee.
She went over Los Laureles Grade to Highway 68 and picked up Highway 1 in Monterey, entering the coastal fog bank. As she drove north up the coast toward Santa Cruz she thought again, I don’t feel up to this, and admitted to herself that her thesis was in danger. Her little group of subjects faced so many conflicts from so many directions right now-Green River, Danny’s death, the suspicions, Britta’s increasing outrageousness-maybe she should put off the meeting.
Oh, well, I’m halfway there, might as well struggle through it, she thought, and then, just at the turnoff for Manresa Beach, she felt a thunk, then a thud. Flap-flap-flap. Left front tire, damn Michelins too. Even at sixty-five the Subaru steered straight and the brakes didn’t let her down. Pulling over to the side of the road, Elizabeth read the number taped to the back of her mobile phone and punched it in.
The tow truck took some time. She gave up and called her committee chair and postponed her meeting for a week. She felt delivered, light. The sand came right up to the road on the side opposite her and she could smell the ocean. Leaning against the car, her back to the freeway, she let her hair fly in the breeze and watched the gulls.
A long yellow truck finally pulled up behind her. A man got out of the cab.
She squinted behind her sunglasses, recognizing him. Ben Cervantes. And felt huge relief and a little excitement. No new stranger to deal with, just Ben from the neighborhood. Who looked really good smiling at her.
“Buenos días, Elizabeth,” Ben said. “Looks like you could use a change.”
His words, following her thinking so closely, startled her, and she felt herself smiling back. “I have a spare in the trunk,” she said. While he went to work with the spare and the tools, jacking up the Subaru, unscrewing the nuts on the tire, she folded her arms and watched.
She had always felt comfortable with Ben. He had clarity in his eyes that she took to be a high level of awareness, although she didn’t really know. Most of the locals saw through a thick gray film of murk. Maybe he didn’t, or maybe she was just much more sensitive to him for some reason.
For two years at the parties, Ben had come alone or with Danny, never with a woman. Then on Saturday night he had brought the attractive woman along, the pseudo-Hungarian who Elizabeth already knew was a lawyer. Were they close? She wouldn’t have thought Ben would-
Or maybe Ben’s type was different from what Elizabeth had thought.
He knelt at her feet, putting on the spare. His hands in the leather gloves moved the big tire around effortlessly. He leaned over and she watched his back in the T-shirt, strong and V-shaped. The breeze blew across the dunes. The cars roared by on the highway.
“I didn’t know you worked for the emergency road crew.”
“New job,” he said.
“Are you a mechanic?”
“Used to do body work only, but I’m a quick study.”
He didn’t work for long. Minutes later, he slammed the flat into her trunk and pushed down the hood. “You’ll want to get that to a station. Don’t want to drive around without a spare.”
“It does make me nervous.”
“You’ll be okay.”
She stood there looking at him for a long moment. Time stretched out. He stuffed a rag in the pocket of his overalls then looked back at her, patient, with those clear brown eyes.
He added suddenly, “I’ll follow you if you’re worried. You can get it fixed later.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” Simple human kindness, she thought, he’s kind, and it felt like rain on her soul. “I’ll pay you for your time,” she said, but he smiled and shook his head.
He jumped back into the yellow truck, pulling the door shut behind him with a thump. She saw him making a radio call.
Observing his face in her rearview mirror, she started up her car. They cut through the fog and back into summer as they turned inland, driving past fields of red snapdragons and orange poppies. All the way down Carmel Valley Road, she studied him. He had lost his job and his nephew, both recently, yet here he was, out on the road helping her and whoever else needed that big helping hand. How must he feel, really?
Back home, she took her purse out and searched for her checkbook.
“Please,” Ben said. “My pleasure.”
“Oh, no. I owe you. This is business.”
“Not for me.”
He wasn’t joking. He meant, he had welcomed the opportunity. “Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
“De nada.”
She hesitated, then said, “Today is my birthday.”
“Really?”
“I’m thirty.”
His smile widened. “Happy birthday, then. I hope thirty is a good year for you.”
“Thanks again.”
“I’ll be going, then. Take care.” Reluctantly, she thought, he turned and walked off. She fitted the key into the lock and opened the door to her empty house and looked back.
He had stopped and was watching her. She saw the desire in his eyes.
She stepped inside and held the door open. He bounded back up the steps and came inside with her, kicking the door shut. Then he had her tight in his arms, supporting her, his hands tangling in her hair, his mouth on her mouth. He was searching for someone, the someone behind the great gray fortress of words and money.
And he found a way in. He found her, exposed her, soothed her fright, caressed her. She began to moan and twist in his arms.
She took his hand in hers and led him into the bedroom. They hardly spoke.
24
D EBBIE TOLD NINA ON THE PHONE that Thursday afternoon, “You better not be making all this up. People on Siesta Court are getting scared of each other. You really think the Cat Lady was murdered?”
“That’s what the medical examiner found.” Nina scratched her ankle, though the poison oak had faded away at last and the scratch was just a leftover nervous tic, like biting her thumbnail. Paul had gone to town to talk to Crockett again.
“Well, I asked around about the money. Whoever set the fires and killed Danny and Ruthie has to be found. But you have to understand, these are my friends.”
“Hear anything back yet?”
“I’ve heard plenty. But not about the sixty-two hundred fifty dollars.”
“Anything you have heard might help us.”
“Do you really believe your client, that young man-”
“Wish Whitefeather-”
“Didn’t kill Danny?”
“I know he didn’t, Debbie.”
“Of course, you’d have to say that. I don’t know why, but I believe you anyhow. Well, then. Darryl and Tory had a loud discussion this morning before Darryl left for work. I couldn’t help but hear part of it. Darryl told Tory he’s not happy and Tory was crying and carrying on. She’s pregnant.”
“Is it about your sister? Elizabeth?”
“Mm-hmm. So I called Elizabeth and I wanted to know whether she and Darryl-I mean, it’s none of my business in a way, but she is my sister-”
“Sure.�
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“And she said, no, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with Darryl, but she has started seeing Ben Cervantes! I was thrilled to hear it, so I thought I better let Tory know she has nothing to worry about, so I gave her a buzz and left a message. And guess what. Talk about bad luck, I never thought something like this might happen-”
“What?”
“Darryl called home from school and picked up the message instead! And he called me and wanted to know everything. I told him that’s all I knew. I was very embarrassed. But also, I’m worried. Because Darryl acted so upset. He sounded jealous. Of Ben.”
“Not good,” Nina said.
Debbie heaved a sigh. “I was just trying to help out. So I called Elizabeth. And she said she was sorry she ever told me about Ben and she must have been out of her mind. I’m afraid I’ve complicated things.”
Nina thought about this, decided she couldn’t link it to Danny, arson, or murder, and said, “Has anything else happened, Debbie?”
“Well, David-you know, the Cowans on the corner-he usually sleeps late, into the afternoon, because he goes to the observatory at night. But this morning I heard the Boxster start up early. One time last year Danny told me that David tried to hire him to spy on Britta. Danny laughed when he told me this and I was curious as to why he was laughing, and the whole sordid story came out that Danny couldn’t spy on himself!”
“Oh. You mean, Danny and Britta.”
“Right. None of us can understand why David stays with her. He actually made a joke about it once. He said he was getting the lay of the land.”
“What else did Danny tell you, Debbie? About anything?”
Debbie needed a moment to change her focus. Then she said, “Lots of stuff. We talked quite a bit.”
“Ever talk about this guy named Coyote?”
“Just that he knew this part-Washoe character who lived out in the woods. A drinker. How is Nate?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d like to bring him something. I bet he doesn’t have any clothes or anything.”
“That would be nice.” Nina gave Debbie a number to call.
“By the way, I’m sorry Sam was rude to you when you and your friend came over. Sam hasn’t been himself.”
“No problem.” Nina hung up.
What had she learned? Nothing, she thought, but she had enjoyed talking to Debbie, a talented gossip. She ought to have a talk show: She’s another Oprah, she thought.
She called Jaime at the D.A.’s office and had the incredible luck of finding him in. “I’d like to come down and see you,” she said.
“About?”
“Ruth Frost’s murder.”
“I’ve already consulted with my boss on that. She may have been murdered, but I don’t know why or by who, so I can’t link it to the arson case. So I’m not dismissing, you’re wasting your breath.”
“But why else would someone kill this poor woman? She had no money to steal. Come on, Jaime, you think someone did it to lash out at cat lovers?”
“We’ll find out. This is my only free time today, Nina, what else do you have?”
“Is there any progress on finding Robert Johnson?”
“Coyote? I haven’t heard a thing. State highway patrol has his license number, though, so we ought to grab him soon.”
“Before he takes these children as he threatened to do on the phone?”
“You mean the schizophrenic kid’s statement? Let me tell you, Nina, I’m using the word statement loosely. He didn’t feel like talking when my investigator went out to the juvenile facility to interview him.”
“You should warn the parents and grandparents on Siesta Court, Jaime. I don’t like having this information-”
“What evidence do you have that this alleged threat has anything to do with them?”
“The conchos in his tent link him to the fire.”
“They’re similar to the ones on the dead man’s belt, yeah.”
“He had an infusion of cash. That fits Nate’s story.”
“But doesn’t link him to the fires.”
“He worked on Ruth Frost’s car!”
“So we’re back to that. It isn’t a credible threat yet, Nina. I’m not going to throw those people into a panic.”
Five more minutes with Jaime convinced her that Wish was facing a real live preliminary hearing in ten days and she’d better get ready for it. She called a temporary secretarial service and arranged to interview someone the next day at Paul’s office. There would be motions, all kinds of paperwork.
Let the cramming begin. She had always been a crammer in school.
All right, let hell break loose, she could prepare for that with ten days’ lead time!
“Hi, Nate.” The boy looked at her slackly. He had been watching afternoon soap operas on TV. An orderly at the facility hung around close by, curious.
“Hi.” A string of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth and he looked pale and wan. She thought, Maybe he was better off undermedicated.
“How are you doing?”
He watched the TV. Diamonique bracelets were on sale on QVC. “It’s okay. But they never gave me any ice cream.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can help with that. Nate, you remember, when we came and got you”-he was nodding-“you told us why you had been chained to the tree?”
“Chained to the tree. I was.”
“Could you tell me again about the phone call you overheard?”
“Wee-zull. The phone call I overheard. The phone made a song and he answered. His face got funny and he looked around for me, but I was outside listening inside. He said, Don’t try to stiff me. It’s that simple. Or else I’ll take the children.”
“Did he say anything else about the children? Which children, Nate?”
“No.”
“Do you remember calling me at the court?”
“You weren’t there. She wrote it down.”
“Right. And you mentioned fire in your phone call. And you said something about ‘the big one.’ Remember?”
Nina waited, biting her nail. Nate hadn’t turned his head from the TV. He sounded remarkably coherent compared with the last time she had talked to him. Nina had represented mental patients before and believed that antipsychotic medications, with their side effects, were often overused in the interests of the institutions, not the patients. But today Nate sounded almost normal: dulled out, drooling, but almost coherent. The medicine was helping him, she had to admit.
“Take the children. Take the children. Take the children. Take the-” Again, Nina felt the clutch of fear.
“Thanks, Nate. Thanks very much. A friend of mine will be coming to see you soon. Dr. Cervenka. You’ll like him. He looks like Santa Claus.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know where your brother might have gone?”
“He must be dead.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Or he’d come get me out of here.”
“You-you want him to come get you?”
“He always took care of me. I don’t like it here.”
Nina walked swiftly down the concrete-floored hall to the front and was let out. At the counter, she asked the attendant where she could find the nearest ice-cream place. She dropped off a half-gallon of Neapolitan for Nate before she headed for Carmel Valley down 68.
Another hot, perfect summer day. Mount Toro loomed on her left.
The cell phone rang, and Paul came on. “I’m still waiting to talk to Crockett. What are you doing?”
She told him, then said, “I’m going to Britta Cowan’s travel agency and see if I can catch her.”
“What for?”
She heard that tone again, the one that told her he didn’t like her coming up with ideas on her own. She bridled.
“Don’t be overbearing, Paul,” she said.
He seemed surprised. “All I asked was-”
“Debbie said that Britta had an affair with Danny last year. Maybe
she met Coyote at some point.”
After a short silence, Paul said, “That’s a good thought.”
“I have them sometimes. I asked Nate if he knew where Coyote might be and he said the strangest thing-that he wished he would come and get him out. After the maltreatment he suffered, I was surprised.”
“I called the condo to pick up voice mail. Sandy wants an update. You or me?”
“I’ll call. I’ll call Joseph too.”
“Great. What time will you be home?”
Home, Nina thought. “Late afternoon.”
“What’s for supper?”
“Whatever’s around.”
“I’ll stop at the store,” Paul said, hurt-sounding.
Carmel Valley Travel was located in a small strip mall on the main road just before the Village. Siesta Court was right down the hill. A school bus stopped just in front of Nina and disgorged its freight of children bowed like porters under their heavy backpacks. She saw George’s granddaughter Callie grab her little sister’s hand as they crossed the street, and it gave her a tight feeling in her chest. She didn’t agree with Jaime. The parents should be warned about a possible threat to the children.
Inside the travel agency, frigid air-conditioning, the usual racks of cruise folders, maps on the walls, Britta Cowan and another woman on the phones. She saw Nina but gave no sign. Nina went back and sat down in the chair next to her.
Britta was saying, “The Bangkok leg has aisle seats but no window except over the wing. You want that? Okay. And vegetarian meal, right? Okay. I’ll see what I can do. What?” Nina looked over the desk. All she saw was travel brochures, tickets, notes, and schedules. No plant, no photos, nothing personal. How odd, she thought. On the wall she saw a poster for Icelandic Airlines.
Britta hung up. “So where are we going today?” she said in her mocking voice.
“I wonder if we could talk for a few minutes.”
“As you can see, I’m trying to make a living.”
“It’s important.”
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