Indigo Slam

CHAPTER 12

Fourteen minutes after leaving the Hewitts, I carved my way through the trees along Woodrow Wilson Drive, then turned onto my little road and saw Joe Pike. Pike's Jeep was parked at the front of my house, and Pike was leaning against the rear hatch, as motionless as a tree or the house or the earth. I put my Corvette in the carport, and met him at the kitchen door. Pike said, 'Nice eye.' No hello, no hey, are you all right? ' Clark do that?' You can always count on your friends for humor.

'How long you been here?'

'I left my position when you and Haines came out of the house.' You see? He'd seen everything.

I let us in, put my overnight bag on the kitchen counter, took two Falstaffs out the fridge, gave one to Pike, then drank a long pull of mine.

I turned on the kitchen tap and cupped the water to my face. I drank most of what was left of the beer, then took a deep breath and let it out. I had pulled the drapes when I left, and the house was dim and still from the close air. Dim and still was good. When it was dark it was easier to pretend that there weren't three kids on the run from the Russian mob with a junkie for a father. Maybe that was why Pike never took off his dark glasses. Maybe it was easier when you couldn't see so much.

Pike said, 'What's wrong?'

'His name isn't Haines. It's Hewitt, and he isn't just your ordinary junkie. He's on the run from the Russian mob, he used to be in the federal witness protection program, and he doesn't have a clue that he or those children are in danger.'

Pike nodded. 'So where's the surprise?' You never know if he means it.

I opened the house, then poked around to see if anyone had been in while I was away. As I poked, I told Pike about Wilson Brownell and Reed Jasper and what Jasper had said about Clark. I described what had happened with the Markov brothers, and how I got the eye. When I told him about the Markovs, Pike's head swiveled about a quarter micron. 'He really Spetnaz?'

'That's what he said.'

'People say anything.' You could tell Pike was interested.

'It's the new world order, Joe. Equal opportunity crime.'

Pike went to the glass doors and looked out. He slid back the glass and the silky mountain air rolled in. 'This isn't good.'

'No,' I said. 'It's not.'

'It won't matter what you told the Russians. They'll figure you've got a line on Clark, and they'll show up.'

'That's what I told Clark. I told him to leave town, or go back to the marshals. They're still willing to help.'

'Will he?'

'I don't know. I told him to call Carol Hillegas. He won't be worth a damn to those kids until he's clean, but who knows what he'll do?' We went out to the deck and stood at the rail and looked down at the canyon. 'Talking to Clark is like talking to your television. He doesn't see that his actions have consequences.'

Pike crossed his arms.

'Also, he told me that our services were no longer needed.'

The corner of Pike's mouth twitched. He'll never smile, but sometimes you'll get the twitch. 'Fired.'

'Well, yeah.'

Another twitch. 'How much money we make?'

Two hundred, less the cost of airfare and hotel. I'd say we're down about three hundred.'

Pike finished his beer.

'But we picked up some frequent flyer miles.'

Pike said, 'You thinking it was the feds or the Russians who went through your house?'

I thought about it, then shook my head. 'It's possible, but I don't think so. If these Russians had a line on Clark, they wouldn't've bothered with me up in Seattle, and the feds would've just knocked on the door. Besides that, I think I've been followed by a guy in a gray LeBaron, and I'm pretty sure the following started before those kids came to my office.' I told him about the black guy in the LeBaron.

'So maybe there's still someone stalking you.'

'Could be.' Always a pleasant thought. 'You want to stay for dinner?'

'No.'

Pike watched a car move along the canyon floor beneath us for a time, then left without another word. No so long, no see you later. Just left.

I finished the Falstaff, crimped the can, and tossed it in my can bag. Recycling. I unpacked, did laundry, and wandered through the house. I felt empty and unfinished, as if there were more to be done only I didn't yet know what to do. Maybe I was bored.

Clark was home, his kids weren't alone anymore, and he was going to do whatever he was going to do. They would leave or they would stay, he would call Carol Hillegas or he wouldn't, he would ask Jasper for help or not, and there wasn't a whole helluva lot I could do about it short of putting a gun to his head. Life in a free society.

I opened another Falstaff, then called Lucy Chenier at her office. 'It's the world's greatest human being, calling for Ms. Chenier.'

Lucy's assistant, Darlene, laughed. 'I see we've upgraded from the world's greatest detective.'

'They're one and the same, are they not?'

'Only when we're talking about you, Mr. Cole.' To know Darlene is to love her. 'I'm sorry, but Ms. Chenier isn't in.' It was just before six in Baton Rouge. Lucy normally stayed in her office until six, unless her son, Ben, had a soccer game.

'Is she at home?'

'You could call her there and find out, I suppose.'

I kidded with Darlene for a few more minutes, then hung up and phoned Lucy's home. She answered on the first ring with 'Hi, David!'

'David?'

'Oh. It's you.'

'Maybe we should hang up and start this conversation again.'

Lucy laughed and said, 'David is David Shapiro, who just happens to be the most experienced news talent attorney in New Orleans, and who also happens to be representing me.'

'KROK made a firm offer?'

She said, 'Negotiations are officially under way.'

The grin started deep and came out big. 'Lucille, that is totally wonderful.'

'It's only their opening offer, and we have to counter, but we're close, Elvis. We are really, really close, and this is going to happen.' You could hear the energy and excitement in her voice. 'David thinks we'll conclude by the end of next week. After that, it's just a matter of waiting for Ben's school year to end, and then we can move out.' The end of Ben's school year was less than six weeks away.

'KROK doesn't have a problem with waiting?'

'Not at all. They've even offered to put me in touch with a real estate agent to help us find a place to live.'

We talked, and as we did the tension slowly seeped away with our sharing, and my home became my home again, warm and enveloping and no longer a place that had been invaded by another. The cat's door clacked, and the cat walked over, bumped against me, and purred. Maybe he could feel the change, too.

Lucy asked about the Hewitt children, and listened as I told her about my trip to Seattle, and the uncomfortable facts that I had learned about their father. She said, 'You took it upon yourself to fly to Seattle to look for him?'

'There's a sucker born every minute, Lucille.'

She sighed, and I could almost see her smile. I could see her in the big overstuffed chair in her living room. I could see Ben on the floor surrounded by Incredible Hulk comic books while he watched Babylon 5. I could smell the bay leaf and sassafras of the oyster gumbo simmering for their dinner in the warm safe house near LSU. Exactly the kind of house that Teri and Charles and Winona did not have. Or maybe I'd just drunk too much Falstaff and all of it was wishful thinking. She said, 'You're not a sucker, you nut. You're the man I love.'

'Thanks, Luce.'

We talked for another hour, sharing our excitement and the evolution of our love, and then we hung up, Lucy promising to call with periodic updates on her status with KROK, and me promising to send her the real estate section from the Los Angeles Times, and both of us making those sugary kissing sounds. Sometimes I'm so schmaltzy I embarrass myself.

I brought the remains of my beer out onto the deck and listened to the breeze ruffling the leaves and to the shush of the cars down in the canyon and to the silence in my home. The cat came out and sat with me. I said, 'Lucy will be here soon. You'd best get used to it.'

He rubbed his head against my leg and purred.

It hadn't been such a bad day, after all.