Scenarios

5

Thirty seconds after I pulled into the lot of the Pinecrest Motel, Raymond Treacle showed up.

I had forgotten all about him. He lived in Redding, and I had talked to him on the phone last night and arranged to meet him here at five o'clock. It was now two minutes past five. My first thought when I saw him drive in was that it was a good thing I had decided not to stop anywhere else in Cooperville. Failing to show up for a meeting with a man who was willing to pay you five thousand dollars was very poor business. I could not seem to do anything right today, except by accident. Maybe I needed a vacation more than I thought I did.

Kerry and I were already out of the car, and she had finally spoken to me, saying that she was going to go in and take a shower, when Treacle appeared. He was driving a brand new Lincoln Continental, and in spite of the heat-it was a good ten degrees hotter in Weaverville than it had been higher up in the mountains-he was wearing a three-piece suit. But he was one of these people who manage to look cool and comfortable no matter what the temperature might be.

He was a handsome guy in his forties, lean and fit, with close-cropped black hair and a fashionable mustache. Throughout our first meeting in San Francisco, which had lasted about an hour, I had kept trying to dislike him. He was glib, he was materialistic and status-oriented, he didn't seem to care much about the feelings of others-he was everything I wasn't and considered distasteful about the modern businessman. And yet he was also so damned earnest, and tried so hard to be friendly, that I couldn't seem to work up much of an antipathy toward him.

He came over and shook my hand in his earnest way. When I introduced him to Kerry he took her hand, too, and smiled at her approvingly. She seemed to like that; the smile she gave him in return was warmer than any she'd let me have in the past couple of days.

Treacle said to me, "How did it go in Cooperville today?"

"I didn't find out much from the people I talked to," I told him, "but I did find evidence that the fire there was deliberately set."

"Oh?"

"Whoever did it used a candle," I said. I went back and opened up the trunk and showed him the cup-shaped piece of stone with the wax residue inside. "I found this among the debris."

He used one of the rags in the trunk to pick it up, and peered at it. "Travertine," he said.

"Pardon?"

"That's the kind of mineral this is. Travertine-layered calcium carbonate. Geology is one of my interests."

"An unusual stone?"

"No, not for this part of the country." He rubbed at it with the rag, ridding it of some of the black from the fire. "It's fossilized," he said, and showed me the imprints in the stone.

"Bryophytes."

"What are bryophytes?"

"Nonflowering plants. Mosses and liverworts."

"Is that kind of fossil uncommon?"

"Not really. They turn up fairly often around here."

Treacle picked at the wax residue with his fingernail. "This is purple, isn't it?"

I nodded. "One of the women in Cooperville makes purple candles as a hobby. Ella Bloom."

"That one," Treacle said wryly. "She's crazy. Did you talk to her?"

"I tried to. She threatened me with a shotgun."

"I'm not surprised. Do you think she…?"

"Maybe. I don't know yet."

I closed the trunk. Kerry was fanning herself with one hand; even as late in the day as it was, the heat out there in the parking lot was intense. Treacle noticed her discomfort and waved a hand toward the motel's restaurant-and-bar. "Why don't we go in where it's cool and have a drink?"

"I could use one," Kerry said.

I said, "I thought you were going to go take a shower?"

"I'd rather have a drink. Do you mind?"

I sighed. I seemed to be doing a lot of sighing today. And the three of us went off together to the bar.

Inside, the air-conditioner was going full-blast and it was nice and cool. We sat in a booth, away from the half-dozen other patrons, and ordered drinks-beer for Kerry and me, a Tom Collins for Treacle. While we were waiting for them I filled him in on how my interviews, or attempted interviews, had gone in Cooperville.

"Didn't I tell you they were a bunch of loonies?" he said. "Yeah."

Kerry said, "They're not such loonies. They only want to be left alone. And they're frustrated." I gave her a warning look, but she ignored it. "Mr. Treacle, may I ask you a frank question?"

"Go right ahead."

"Don't you or your partners give a damn what happens to those poor people?"

I felt like kicking her under the table. You didn't talk that way to clients, especially not to clients who were willing to part with a nice fat chunk of money for services rendered. At least, I didn't talk to clients that way; if I had I would have ended up unemployed. But she got away with it, just as she'd gotten away with fast-talking Hugh Penrose earlier.

"Of course we care, Ms. Wade," Treacle said. He didn't sound ruffled or defensive, he didn't even sound surprised. Maybe it was a question he'd heard a number of times before. "None of us has a heart of stone, you know."

"Then how can you just waltz into Cooperville and take their land away from them?"

"We're not trying to take their land away from them," Treacle said patiently. He paused while the waitress set our drinks on the table and then moved off again. "They are perfectly welcome to continue living in Cooperville after we've restored it."

"You mean turned it into some kind of tourist-trap Disneyland."

"That's not true. Our plans call for careful, authentic restoration. The Munroe Corporation is a reputable development company, Ms. Wade; we're interested in improvement and preservation of historical landmarks…"

I quit listening. Things were going on inside my head, things that had to do with rocks and stones. I picked up my beer and nibbled at it. When I put the bottle down again I had nibbled it dry. And I had an idea. A couple of ideas, maybe.

Kerry was still picking away at Treacle, but there wasn't much heat in her voice; she was being controlled. So was Treacle.

I cleared my throat, loudly, to get their attention. They both looked at me, and I said, "If you don't mind, Mr. Treacle, I'd like to cut this short. There are some things I have to do."

"Oh?" he said.

Kerry said, sounding annoyed, "What do you have to do?"

"Drive back to Cooperville."

"Now? What for?"

"There's something I want to check on."

"I don't feel like going all the way back there."

"That's good, because I'm going alone."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," I said, and to prove it I got out of the booth. "I'll be back in a couple of hours-three at the outside. Then we can have dinner."

"I don't think so," she said, miffed again. She leaned across the table. "Mr. Treacle, do you have any plans for the next few hours?"

"Why no, I don't."

"Fine. How would you like to have dinner with me?"

I blinked at her. A minute ago she'd been haranguing him for being unfeeling and greedy; now she was asking him to have dinner with her. Treacle was just as surprised as I was. He looked at her, looked at me, looked at her again, and said, "Well, I don't know…"

"Go ahead," I told him. "Ms. Wade can be pleasant company. Sometimes."

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind..

"I don't mind. I'll call you later with another report." I glanced at Kerry before I started away. "Enjoy your dinner." She stuck her tongue out at me.