Robert Crais - Stalking the Angel

“Have you seen Mimi?”

She shook her head. “No. I heard you tried.”

I spread my hands.

Jillian put her wineglass down and said, “Is it always this hard?”

I stared out through the glass to the canyon and shook my head.

Jillian Becker sat quietly for a moment, swirling her wine and watching it move in the glass. Then she said, “Carol Hillegas agreed with me.”

“What?”

“If the one who makes the pain stop is the one who loves them, then that’s you.”

I finished the water and put down the glass and looked out at the canyon some more. The cat door clacked and the cat came in from the kitchen. When he saw Jillian he growled, deep and warlike. I said, “Beat it.”

The cat sprinted back into the kitchen and through his door. Jillian said, “What a nice cat.”

I laughed then, and Jillian Becker laughed, too. She had a good, clear laugh. When the laughter faded, she looked at me. “I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving Los Angeles. There is no more Warren Investments. Even if there were, I would leave. I’m going to find a position back east.”

Part of me felt small, and growing smaller.

“But I’m going to stay here in L.A. for another couple of weeks before I go. I wanted to tell you that, too.”

“Why are you going to hang around?”

She looked at me steadily. “I thought I might spend some time with you.”

We sat like that, me on the couch and Jillian on the chair, and then she put out her hand. I took it.

Outside, a red hawk floated high over the canyon, and was warm in the sun.