Robert Crais - L.A. Requiem

“It's Lucy.”

I opened the kitchen door, letting her in with a bag of groceries and two suits still in plastic laundry bags. I guess she'd gone by her apartment. Her face was ashen, and she moved with quick short steps, looking nervous. The cat hissed once, then sprinted through his cat door.

“Oh, shut up. Something's happened. Joe escaped custody.”

“I know. He's here.”

As I closed the door, Joe stepped out of the living room.

Lucy stopped in the center of the kitchen, looking at Joe. She was not happy to see him.

She said, “What were you thinking?”

“Hello, Lucy.”

She put her purse and the grocery bag on the counter, but did not put down the two suits. Her face was hard; no longer nervous, but angry. “Do you know what a bad move this is?”

Joe didn't answer.

“They've got him in a box, Luce. I don't know if this is the smart way to play it, but it's done.”

Lucy glared at me, and there was an anger in her face I did not like. “Don't defend this. Let there be no doubt, I can assure you both that this is not the smart way to play it.” She turned back to Joe. “Have you spoken to your attorney yet?”

“Not yet.”

“He's going to tell you to give yourself up. You should.”

“Won't happen.”

Lucy turned back to me. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

It felt like Mama was angry at her two little boys, and I was liking it even less.

“No, I didn't have anything to do with it, and what's with you? Why are you so upset?”

She rolled her eyes as if I were an idiot, then draped the suits over the grocery bags. “May I see you?”

She stalked across the living room.

When we were as far from Joe as we could get, I said, “Do you think you could be a little less supportive?”

“I don't support this, and neither should you.”

“I don't support this, either. I'm dealing with it. What would you like me to do? Kick him out? Call the cops?”

Lucy closed her eyes, calming herself, then opened them. Her voice was measured and calm.

“I have spent the last three hours worried sick about him, and about you. I tried to reach you, and couldn't. For all I knew, you were part of this. You and the Sundance Kid over there, partners jumping off a cliff.”

I started to say something, but she held up a hand.

“Do you realize that his being here jeopardizes your license under California law? You're harboring a fugitive. That's a felony.”

“He's here because we have to work together if we're going to beat this thing. He did not murder Eugene Dersh.”

“Then let him prove that in court.”

“We've gotta have proof to prove it. So far, the state has a case and we don't have any way to dispute it. We're going to have to find the person who really killed Dersh, and right now I'm thinking that's the same person who killed Karen Garcia and those other five people.”

Lucy's mouth was tight, her face set in a hard mask because it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

“It's dangerous for him here, Lucy. He knows that, and I know it, too. He's not going to stay, but he can't leave until it's dark.”

“What if the police knock at your door right now? With a search warrant?”

“We'll deal with it if it happens.”

She stepped back from me.

“You're not the only one in jeopardy here.”

She steeled herself in a way that was visible. “I am not Joe's attorney. As long as I'm living here with you, my license to practice law could be at risk. Worse, what is happening here now could call into question my fitness as Ben's mother if Richard sues for custody.”

I glanced at Joe, then back to Lucy.

Lucy kept the emotionless eyes on mine.

“If Joe stays, I have to leave.”

“He's going as soon as it's dark.”

She closed her eyes, then said it again, slowly and carefully.

“If Joe stays, I have to leave.”

“Don't ask me this, Lucy.”

She didn't move.

“I can't ask him to go.”

A long time ago in another place I was badly wounded and could not get immediate medical attention. Little bits of hot steel had ripped through my back, tearing the arteries and tissues inside me, and all I could do was wait to be saved. I tried to stop the bleeding, but the wounds were behind me. My pants and shirt grew wet with blood, and the ground beneath me turned to red mud. I lay there that day, wondering if I would bleed to death. The minutes turned to hours as the blood leaked out, and the passage of time slowed to a crawl in a way that made me think that I would always be trapped in that single horrible moment.

The time passed like that now.

Lucy and I stood by my fireplace, neither speaking, staring at each other with hurt eyes, or maybe eyes that didn't hurt enough.

I said, “I love you.”

Lucy went back across the living room into the kitchen, snatched up her suits, and went out the door and drove away.

Joe said, “You should go after her.”

I hadn't heard him approach, I hadn't felt him put his hand on my shoulder. He was in the kitchen, and now he was beside me.

“If it's about me, I would've gone.”

“Your chances are better when it's dark.”

“My chances are what I make them.”

He moved to the table, pulling the chair and sitting so quietly that I heard no sound. Maybe I was listening for other things. The cat reappeared and jumped onto the table to be with him.

I went back into the kitchen, and looked in the bag she'd brought. Salmon steaks, broccoli, and a package of new potatoes. Dinner for two.

Joe spoke from the dining room. “Ever since I've known you, I've looked to you for wisdom.”

Pike was a shape in the shadows, my cat head bumping his hands.

“What in hell does that mean?”

“You're my family. I love you, but sometimes you're a dope.”

I put the food away, and went to the couch. “If you want something, get it yourself.”

Two hours later it was fully dark. During that time, we decided what we would do, and then Joe let himself out the kitchen door, and slipped away into darkness.

Then I was truly alone.

I sat on the couch in my empty house, feeling a tight queasiness as if I'd lost something precious, and thinking that maybe I had. After a while, I called Lucy, and got her machine.

“It's me. Are you there?”

If she was there, she didn't pick up.

“Luce, we need to talk about this. Would you please pick up?”

When she still didn't pick up, I put down the phone and went back to the couch. I sat there some more, then opened the big glass doors to let in the night sounds. Somewhere outside the police were watching, but what did I care? They were the closest thing to company that I had.

I poached one of the salmon steaks in beer, made a sandwich with it, and ate standing in the kitchen near the phone.

Lucy Chenier had been out here for less than a month. She had changed her life to come here, and now everything had gone to hell. It scared me. We weren't mad because we liked different movies, or I had been rude to her friends. We were mad because she had given me a choice between herself and Joe, and she felt I'd chosen Joe. I guess she was right, but I didn't know what to do about that. If she gave me the same choice again, I would decide the same way, and I wasn't sure what that said about me, or us.

Someone pounded hard on the front door. I thought it was the cops, and in a way it was.

Samantha Dolan swayed in the doorway with her hands on her hips, four sheets to the wind.

“You got any of that tequila left?”

“Now isn't a good time, Samantha.”

She started to step in past me just like she'd done before, but this time I didn't move.