Sue Grafton - E Is for Evidence

He unfolded himself and emerged from the car, lean-ing his elbows on the open car door. The pale glow from the street light gilded his cheekbones, touching off strands of silver in the cloud of blond hair.

"I'm in a bit of a bind," he said. His face was dappled with shadows that masked the remembered clear blue of his eyes. After eight years, it was amazingly painful just to be in his company.

I thought the safest course was to repeat information back to him without comment. "You're in a bind," I said. There was a brief silence wherein I assumed I was meant to quiz him on the nature of his problem. I clamped my teeth together, waiting patiently.

He smiled ruefully. "Don't worry. I'm not going to ask you for money and I'm not trying to get in your pants." "This comes as a big relief, Daniel. What do you want?" The bitchy tone was already back, but I swear I couldn't help myself. There's nothing more infuriating than a man who's manipulated your emotions once and now thinks he can do it again. I could still remember the charge that ran between us early in our relationship, sex-ual electricity infusing the very air we breathed. It had taken years for me to realize that I had generated most of it myself out of my own neediness. Maybe that's what was making me so churlish in retrospect. I was still chafing at myself for what a fool I'd been.

"I need a place to stash my gear," he said.

"What gear?"

He shrugged. "I got a two-thousand-dollar acoustic guitar I can't leave because the trunk lock is busted on the rental car I picked up. It'll get ripped off if it's in the back seat."

"You brought a guitar like that all the way from Flor-ida?"

"I thought maybe I'd pick up a gig out here. I could use the bucks."

"What happened to your friend? I thought you got a ride with someone. Why not take it to his place? Or is it a woman? I guess I never asked you that."

"Well, no, it's a guy," he said. "The problem is, he doesn't actually live here in town. He was just passing through on his way to San Francisco and he won't be back till late on Sunday. That's why I had to rent a car of my own."

"Where are you staying? Don't you have a place?"

"I'm working on that. The town's booked solid be-cause of the holidays. Meantime, I can't even pull into a gas station to take a leak without hauling everything in with me. It's just for a couple of days."

I stared at him. "You always do things like this, you know that? You're always in a bind, shifting your weight from foot to foot, hoping someone'll bail you out of the hole you're in. Try the Rescue Mission. Pick up a woman. That shouldn't be so tough. Or sell the damn thing. Why is it up to me?"

"It's not up to you," he said mildly. "It's a simple favor. What's the big deal?"

I ran out of steam. We'd had this same exchange a hundred times and he'd never heard me before. I might as well save my breath. I might as well give him what he wanted and get it over with. It was probably just an elabo-rate excuse to prolong our contact. "Never mind," I said. "No big deal. You can park the damn thing in a corner until Sunday and then I want it out of here."

"Sure. No problem. Thanks."

"I'm warning you, Daniel. If you've got a stash any-where within six blocks of here, I'll call the cops."

"I'm clean. I told you that. You can look for yourself.

"Skip it " I said. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't bluff on that, because he knew me well enough to know I'd have him thrown in the slammer if I caught him.

I took a couple of Tylenols and slept like a stone-deep, dreamless sleep that soothed my frazzled nerves and re-stored my good spirits. I was up at 6:00, ready to jog as usual. There was no sign of Daniel parked at my curb. I did a perfunctory stretch against the fence post and headed toward Cabana Boulevard.

The run felt great. The sky was a pearl gray streaked with pink. To my right, a dark-gray surf boomed against the hard-packed sand, leaving snowy froth in its wake. The wharf was mirrored in the glistening pools that remained when the waves receded. The sea seemed to shush the birds that shrieked overhead. This was the last day of the year and I ran with a sense of optimism the new year always brings. I'd find a way to sort it all out: Lance, Mac's suspicions about me, even Daniel's sudden appearance on my doorstep. I was alive and healthy, physically fit. Rosie's would open again on Monday. Henry would be home in another six days. I had the sassy green dress Olive had given me, and maybe a New Year's invitation if she came through as hoped. I did my three miles and slowed to a walk, cooling off as I headed home.

I showered and dressed in jeans as usual, savoring the morning at home. By then it was 7:00 -too early for phone calls. I ate my cereal and read the L.A. Times over two cups of coffee. Daniel's guitar sat in the corner in mute testi-mony to his renewed presence in my life, but I ignored it for the most part.

Darcy called at 7:35 from California Fidelity. She'd done a thorough search. Andy 's office was clean.

"Shit," I said, "What about a typewriter? I was hoping we could get a match on the phony fire department report, but I didn't find one at his apartment."

"Maybe he keeps it in the trunk of his car." "Oh, I like that. I'll see if I can find a way to check that out. In the meantime, keep an eye peeled. Maybe some-thing will surface. Andy 's gotta be tied into this business somehow. It would help a lot to know who he knows at Wood/Warren. Did you go through his Rolodex?"

"That won't help. He knows all those guys because that was his account. He's bound to have the number handy. I'll check it out, though. Maybe something else will come to light." She clicked off.

At 8:00, I put a call through to Lyda Case in Texas. Her roommate said she was out of town, maybe in California, but she wasn't sure. I left my number and asked her to have Lyda get in touch with me if she called home.

I called my pal at the credit bureau, but she was out until Monday. I had the feeling the rest of the day was going to come down about the same way. It was New Year's Eve day. As with Christmas Eve, businesses were closing early, people taking off at noon. Olive called me at 10:00 to say that she was indeed putting together an im-promptu cocktail party. "It's mostly family and a few close friends. Half the people I called already had plans. Are you free? We'd love to have you, if you're not already tied up." "Of course I'm not," I said. "I'd love to come." I hated to sound so eager, but in truth I was. I didn't want to spend this New Year's Eve alone. I was worried Daniel might start looking too good. "Can I bring anything?"

"Actually I could use some help," she said. "I gave the housekeeper the weekend off, so I'm throwing the whole thing together by myself. I can always use an extra set of hands."

"Well, I'm not a cook, but I can sure chop and stir.

What time?"

"Four-thirty? I'll be back from the supermarket by then. Ash said she'd come about five to help, too. Every-body else will be coming about seven. We'll keep going till the food and alcohol give out."

"Great," I said. "And the green dress will be okay?"

"It better be. I'm giving this party so you can wear the damn thing."

I put a call through to Lance. I didn't like initiating the contact with him, but I had to hear his version of the situation with Hugh Case. As soon as he was on the line, I told him what I'd heard. The silence was weighty. "Lance?"

"I'm here," he said. He sighed heavily. "Jesus, I don't know how to deal with this. What the hell is going on? I heard rumors back then she thought I had something to do with his death. It's not true. It's completely untrue, but I don't have a way of proving it. Why would I do that? What could I possibly gain by killing him?" "Wasn't he leaving the company?" "Absolutely not. He talked about quitting. He said he wanted to start a company of his own. He even gave no-tice, but hell, Dad called him in and they had a long talk. Dad offered to make him a vice-president. Gave him a big raise and he was happy as a clam." "When was this?"