Self-Defence

39

Keeping the lights off, she pushed Travis to the back of the store and unlocked a door. Inside was a small neat storeroom: metal shelves filled with merchandise, a desk, and three folding chairs. Positioning Travis in a corner, she pulled a box down and gave it to him. A diving mask. He began turning the package over and over, working hard at holding on to it, studying a photograph of a girl snorkeling as if it were a puzzle.

She started to go behind the desk. I got there first and checked all the drawers. Just papers and pens and staples and clips.

She gave a weak smile. "Yeah, tough old me's gonna shoot you."

"I'm sure you can be plenty tough." I looked at Travis.

She sat down heavily. I took a chair.

"Tell me what happened," I said.

"Promise me they won't put him away."

"I can't promise, but I'll do my best. If you had nothing to do with Karen's murder."

"I keep telling you, I don't know about any murder. Just that she disappeared."

"From the Sanctum party."

Nod.

"You hired her to work at the party."

"So what does that make me, a criminal? I hired her as a favor. She needed the money. Her tips weren't that good because she wasn't the greatest waitress, kept getting orders wrong. And that hypocrite father of hers didn't approve of her being an actress, so he never sent her a dime. I helped her, so now people are getting murdered and I'm being treated like a criminal?"

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"How can I remember? It was twenty-one years."

"Try."

Silence.

"In the middle of the party," she said. "I don't know what time it was. We were all working; I wasn't paying attention to her."

"You never told anyone she was there, did you?"

More silence.

"Did the sheriffs ask?"

"They came around the Dollar, a few days after she was gone. They thought she was lost up in the mountains. They had helicopters looking for her."

"And you didn't tell them any different."

"Who says it was any different? She could have left the party with someone and gone to the mountains."

"In the middle of work?"

"She wasn't the most reliable person- used to call in sick at the Dollar so she could go to Disneyland. Coming out here was a big vacation for her."

She bit her lip. "Look, I'm not putting her down. She was a nice kid. But not too bright." Tears filled her eyes. "I never wanted to see anything happen to her. I never did anything to hurt her."

She put her hands over her face again. Travis had managed to turn himself around and was looking at her, fascinated. The box slid down his lap and landed on the floor. He reached for it but the leather belt restrained him, and he started to shout.

Gwen uncovered her face and started to get out of her chair.

I retrieved the box and gave it to him, tousling his hair.

"Aa-gaah," he said, grinning. "Aa-gaamnuhuh."

Gwen said, "It wasn't any big intense investigation or anything. A deputy just dropped in and asked if anyone'd seen her; then he sat around and had coffee."

"What about the private eye Karen's family hired? Felix Barnard. What did he ask you?"

"He was weird. An oily old guy."

"What did he ask you?"

"Same stuff the police did: When did we last see her?"

"And you told him Friday night, after her shift at the Dollar."

"He was a sleazeball. I didn't want anything to do with him."

"He found out Karen had been at the party. How?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't from me," she said. The way she looked away quickly let me know she was hiding something. I decided not to push, right now. Thinking of the unaccounted-for time between Karen's leaving the Dollar and the party the next day, I said, "Why did Karen go up to Sanctum early?"

"The caterer needed someone to set up chairs and tables before the food got there."

"And you picked Karen even though she wasn't reliable?"

"I felt sorry for her. Like I said, she needed the money." She blinked several times.

"Is that the only reason?"

She took a deep breath and turned to Travis. "You okay, honey?"

Ignoring her, he continued to study the box.

"What's the real reason you chose Karen to go up early, Gwen?"

"Someone called. Wanted us to send the best-looking waitress up early."

"Who?"

Long silence. "Lowell."

"And Karen was the best-looking waitress."

"She was cute."

"Why would looks be important if all he wanted was for her to set up?"

"I don't know. It wasn't like he mentioned that first. More like, As long as you're sending someone, send a good-looking one, and some other stuff- crazy words I don't remember- something about eternal beauty. I don't know why, maybe he had big shots over and wanted to make an impression- it was none of my business. What difference did it make to me who set up? Karen was happy to do it."

"Happy to be with big shots."

"Definitely. She was still a tourist- going over to Hollywood Boulevard, looking for movie stars."

"How'd she get up to Sanctum?"

"Someone picked her up."

"At the Dollar?"

"No, on PCH."

"Where on PCH?"

"PCH and Paradise Cove."

"Right at the turnoff to the Dollar?"

Nod.

"Who picked her up?"

"I don't know." Another look away.

"This isn't very helpful, Gwen." Travis was staring at me. I winked at him. He laughed, and the box slipped from his fingers again. I returned it to him, then stared at Gwen. Making it a hard stare was no effort.

"I saw a car," she said. "We did- Tom and me. Pulling away just as we got there. But that's all. I couldn't see who was in it. I don't even know if that's the one that picked her up. She left twenty minutes before we did. Someone else could have picked her up."

"What kind of car?"

"Tom said a Ferrari."

"Tom said?"

"He's into cars. To me it was just a car and taillights. Tom was all excited."

"What color?"

"It was nighttime- Tom thought it was red. He said most of them are red, it's Ferrari's racing color."

"Convertible or hardtop?"

"Convertible, I think, but the top was up. We couldn't see who was inside."

"Did you ever see the car again?"

She played with her earrings and twisted her fingers, as if wringing them out. "There was one up there."

"Up where?"

"The party. There were all kinds of fancy cars there. Porsches, Rollses. Valets parking them up and down the road, total chaos."

"Who did the Ferrari belong to?"

"I don't know."

I stared at her.

"I don't know," she said. "What do you want me to do, make something up?"

"Did it have customized plates?"

"No… not that I noticed. I couldn't have cared less, cars don't interest me. My head was into the party, making sure everything went okay."

"Did it?"

"What?"

"Did the party go okay?"

"People seemed to be having fun."

"What about Karen?"

"What about her?"

"Was she having fun?"

"She was there to work," she said sharply. "Yeah, she seemed happy."

"All those big shots."

She shrugged.

"Did she sleep at Sanctum on Friday night?"

"I don't know."

"When did you go up?"

"Saturday morning."

"Was she there?"

Nod.

"How early in the morning?"

"Seven-thirty, eight. We drove up early to start getting the food ready. She was already up and running."

"What kind of mood was she in?"

"A good one. She'd set up the tables and chairs and was goofing around."

"How?"

"Playing with some kids."

"Whose kids?"

"Lowell's. At first, I thought they were his grandchildren, 'cause they were so little, but Karen said no, they were his. She was jazzed about that."

"About what?"

"That she was playing with a famous guy's kids. That's the way she was, really starstruck. She started telling me how famous the guy was, won the Nobel Prize or something. Everything was a big deal to her."

"Pretty impressed with Lowell, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What else did she say about him?"

"That's it."

"Did you get the feeling they'd spent the night together?"

"I have no idea."

"Did she mention any other people she'd met?"

Headshake.

"How many of Lowell's kids was she playing with?"

"Two."

"How old were they?"

"Little, three or four, something like that."

"Boys or girls?"

"I don't remember. Why?"

"Boys or girls?" I repeated.

She shrugged. "Probably girls. They both had these long mops of blond hair. Cute kids."

"And Karen was baby-sitting them."

"No, just playing around with them- laughing, chasing them. She wanted to baby-sit instead of serving. Said Lowell's regular baby-sitter got sick, some kind of emergency operation. But she was too ditzy, so I said no."

"So who baby-sat the kids?"

"Another girl."

"Name?"

Hesitation. "Another waitress."

Short dark hair. Grumpy.

"Doris Reingold?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Why Doris?" I said.

"She was older, had two of her own. I figured she'd know what to do."

"Were there any other kids around?"

"Not that I saw."

But I knew of two. Locked in their cabin.

"So what did Karen do then?"

"Worked with the food, like the rest of us. We slaved like dogs. It was a huge party, four hundred people, tons of stuff. The ice ran out and Tom had to make a bunch of trips down to Malibu to get more. The caterer was some little gay guy with a bad temper, brought in some illegals to help out, no one spoke any English. Then all these bands started showing up. Setting up their equipment, doing sound checks, trying to see who could play loudest. Portable fans and lights, a generator, electrical cables all over the place. By the time the people started coming, it was already getting dark. Berserk. Unless you've worked food service, you wouldn't understand."

"Was there a lot of dope and booze?"

"What do you think? But none of the staff messed with it- I had a rule about that. You're behind a buffet table, spooning out coleslaw, you can't be freaking out."

"Was Karen behind the buffet?"

"At first. Then the caterer started screaming for someone to pass around the hors d'oeuvres trays, so I had her do that. That's the last time I saw her: going into the crowd with a tray. Not that I looked for her. I was like a chicken with my head cut off, it was so crazy. I worked till five in the morning. The cleanup was outrageous; the caterer split with all his Mexicans and left it to Tom and me."

"Were you back on shift at the Dollar on Sunday?"

"Sunday evening."

"Was Karen supposed to be on, too?"

"Yes, but like I said, she always took time off, so her not showing up was no big deal."

"When did you first realize she'd disappeared?"

"A couple of days later, I guess. I didn't think much about it. I wasn't her mother."

"When did Lowell call you?"

"Who said he called me?"

"We know he did, Gwen. To arrange the payoff. Our information is that it was three days after the party. Is that true?"

She turned one of her earrings, then reversed the circuit. "More like four or five, I don't know."

"Tell me about his call."

She turned to Travis. "You okay, baby?"

The boy played with the box and giggled.

I said, "He's fine, Gwen."

Another turn of the earring. She cleared her throat, coughed. Picked something out of one nail.

I crossed my legs and smiled at her.

"You're making a mountain out of a molehill. He didn't say anything about any payoff," she said. "He asked for Tom and me to meet him, said he had a bonus for us. For doing such a good job at the party."

"Where'd you meet him, at Sanctum?"

"No, out in the Valley. On Topanga Canyon Boulevard, just before Ventura."

Upper-middle-class residential area. "Where on the boulevard?"

"It was- I guess you'd call it a turnoff. A piece of empty land."

"Right on Topanga?"

"Just off new Topanga, actually. Around the corner from Topanga- some side street. I don't remember the name but I could probably show it to you."

"Probably?"

"It's been a long time. It was dark, almost midnight."

"You didn't find his wanting to meet that late strange?"

"I found lots of things strange. He was strange, always yakking; most of the time he made no sense. The party was strange. He wanted to give us money, I didn't argue."

"Did he come alone?"

Nod. "He was waiting when we got there, sitting in his car."

"What kind of car?"

"A Mercedes, I think. I told you I'm not into cars."

"Just a casual midnight meeting to pick up some money."

"It would have had to be late because Tom and I were working at the restaurant. Some people have to earn a living."

"What happened after you got there?"

"He stayed in the car, told us we'd done a great job at the party and he was giving us a bonus."

Twisting her fingers.

"What else?"

"He said there was something else we needed to talk about. He wasn't sure, but he thought one of the girls who'd worked for us had gotten into some kind of fight with a guest and had walked off."

"Did he name Karen?"

"He called her the pretty one."

"Did he say which guest?"

"No."

"You're sure."

"Yes!"

"Did he mean a physical fight?"

"I assumed he meant just an argument- he might have even said "argument,' I can't remember."

Moisture in her eyes. She stared at me, flaunting the tears.

"What else?"

"Nothing, he just said the girl hadn't behaved properly, had really stepped out of line, but he wouldn't hold it against us or complain because, other than that, we'd done a really good job. Then he said we also had to promise not to say anything about the fight. Because the press was out to get him, and any scandal would cause a giant hassle for him. Even if the girl disappeared and people came asking for her. Because when she'd cursed out the guest, she'd said something about being disgusted and splitting town."

"Did that sound like Karen? Cursing?"

She shrugged and dried her eyes. "I didn't know her all that well."

"At the Dollar did she ever have problems losing her temper with customers?"

"No, just getting orders wrong. But the party was different- lots of pressure."

"So supposedly she pulled a fit, left the party, and said she was splitting town."

"That's what he said."

"Did you believe him?"

"We didn't think about it one way or the other."

"Then he gave you the money."

"Our bonus."

"How big of a bonus?"

She looked at Travis, then down at the desk. "Five," she said, very softly.

"Five what?"

"Thousand."

"A five-thousand-dollar bonus?"

"The catering bill must have been fifty, sixty thousand. It was like a tip."

"Cash?"

Nod.

"In a suitcase?"

"A paper bag- big one, like from a supermarket."

"Five-thousand-dollar tip in a bag."

"It wasn't all for us. He told us to distribute it to the others."

"What others?"

"The other servers."

"The people from the Sand Dollar?"

"That's right."

"Names."

"A guy named Lenny-"

"Lenny Korcik?"

Nod. "And Doris and two other women, Mary and Sue."

"Mary Andreas and Sue Billings."

"If you know, why are you asking?"

"Korcik's dead and Doris lives in Ventura," I said. "Where are Mary and Sue?"

"I don't know. Both were temps- hippies. I think they hitchhiked into town together. They stuck around maybe another month or two, then split, no notice."

"Together?"

"I think Sue ran off with a truck driver who came into the restaurant, and a couple days later Mary joined up with some surfers driving up the coast. Or maybe it was down the coast, I don't remember. We weren't close or anything. They were hippies."

"But you split the money with them."

"Sure, they worked."

"Even split?"

Long inhalation. "No, why should we? I contracted the whole thing. And Tom and I ended up doing all the cleanup."

"How much did you give them?"

She mumbled something.

"What's that?"

"Two-fifty."

"Two-fifty for each of them?"

Nod.

"Leaving four thousand for you and Tom."

"They didn't complain. They were happy to get anything."

"Doris, too?"

"Why not?"

"She doesn't seem like a very happy person."

"You'd have to ask her about that."

"We will, once we find her. Where did Tom take her, two nights ago?"

She wrung her hands and let loose a stream of filthy words. Cursing Sherrell Best for spying on her.

"Where?" I said.

"She needed a ride to the airport, so he took her."

"Vacation for her, too?"

She didn't answer.

"Gwen," I said wearily, "if you want to talk, fine. If not, you're on your own."

"Give me a chance," she said. "This is hard, remembering all this stuff… Okay, she decided to split town. She got nervous after you came asking around. She thought you were Best's son- we all did. Raking things up again. She didn't want the hassle."

"Nervous about her role in the cover-up."

"It wasn't like that. Like I said, there was no big plot. We just…"

"You just what?"

"Kept our mouths shut. Can't catch any flies that way."

Bitter smile.

"Did Doris see something the rest of you didn't?"

"Maybe- okay, okay, but it's not any big deal. She wasn't even sure herself. It was probably nothing."

Another tug at the bodice.

"What did she see, Gwen?"

"It was- she put the kids to sleep, left to get a drink. When she got back, one of the kids was gone and the door to the outside was open. She went out looking, finally found the kid wandering around in back; there were a lot of trees, paths. And all these other cabins. Like a big summer camp- it used to be a nudist colony. The kid was spaced out. When Doris picked her up, she started babbling. About bad men, monsters, hurting a girl, something like that. Doris figured she was having a bad dream and took her back. But when she put her in bed, the kid started screaming, woke up the other kid, and got that one crying too. Doris said it was a real hassle, they were really making noise. But with all the music from the party, you couldn't hear it. Finally got them both quiet."

"What made her suspect the kid might have really seen something?"

"When Karen didn't show up and I told her the same story I told the others."

"What was that?"

"That she hated her father and he was coming out to bring her back home, so she was going to split town."

"The others believed it, but Doris didn't?"

"She said Karen had told her she liked her father."

"Did Doris tell the others that?"

Headshake. "Lenny was into plants, real stupid; he'd believe anything. Mary and Sue were hippies; they hated their folks."

"So Doris kept her story to herself."

Shrug.

"Why didn't you tell them Lowell's story about the fight?"

"I told you, he didn't want any of that getting out. Nothing that could connect Karen to him. Actually, he made up the other story as a replacement. At first he said to say her father abused her. I didn't make it that strong."

"Why not?"

"It just wasn't right- too much."

Looking at me, as if for praise.

"So the others bought it," I said, "but Doris didn't. And she started to wonder if the little kid had seen something happen to Karen."

"She didn't know anything for sure, but she came to me and told me about finding the kid. Kind of thinking out loud."

"Wanting more than two fifty."

Silence.

"How much did you give her?"

"Seven fifty more."

"One thousand total. How much did she think Lowell gave you?"

Hesitation.

"It's just a matter of time before we find her and ask her, Gwen."

"Two and a half thousand," she said very softly.

"So she thought she was getting more than you. When did she realize you'd held back on her?"

"She didn't."

"Then why are you still paying her off?"

"Who says we are?"

"The police. And Tom was there to pick her up and take her to the airport. There's obviously some relationship there. Do she and Tom have something going?"

She laughed. "No, he hates her."

"Because she's got a hook in you?"

"It's not like that."

"Not like what?"

"Blackmail or anything like that. She just comes to us when she's broke- its like charity. She's got… a problem."

"Compulsive gambling."

Her head snapped up. "If you know everything, why do you need me?"

"How long have you been financing her addiction?"

"Off and on. Most of the time she's okay, but then she goes off drinking and gambling and wipes herself out. So we help her- it's a sickness."

Remembering the boys on the lawn, I said, "Does she ever win?"

"Play enough, you're bound to. One time she won big. Fifteen thousand at craps in Tahoe- fifteen thousand. Next day she blew it all at the same table. We feel sorry for her. She's Tom's first cousin, used to baby-sit him. After she got married, she started drinking and gambling."

"How much have you given her over the years?"

"Never added it up, but plenty. She probably could have bought a house, but she doesn't care about normal things- that's why her husband left her. We help her 'cause she's family."

The room was cool but she was sweating, and her mascara started to run. She grabbed a tissue from a box on the desk and took a long time to wipe her eyes.

I understood Doris's hostility to her and Tom, now. The rage of the charity receiver.

"Okay?" she said. "Is that enough for you?"

"Where did Tom take her?"

"To the airport."

"Where did she fly?"

"I don't know. And that's the truth. She just said she wanted to get out of town for a while. You spooked her. She was worried you'd rake things up."

"Did she feel guilty about never telling anyone what she'd seen?"

"How would I know?"

"Did she start drinking and gambling after the party or before?"

"Before. I told you, it was right after she got married. She was only seventeen, then she had her kids."

"Two boys," I said. "One in Germany, one in Seattle."

She looked away.

"What's the name of the son in Seattle?"

"Kevin."

"Kevin Reingold?"

Nod.

"At what army base is he stationed?"

"I don't know, somewhere up there."

"She's your cousin and you don't know?"

"She's Tom's cousin. They're not a close kind of family."

Glancing at Travis, trying to open the box. But the plastic wrap was tight and his fingers struck at it uselessly.

I peeled some plastic back. He laughed and tossed the box in the air. Again, I retrieved it.

Gwen was staring at the shelves.

"So Tom dropped her off," I said, "then caught a plane to Mexico City."

The box dropped again. This time, Travis rejected it, shaking his head and arching his back. I gave him a can of surf wax and he began rolling it between his palms.

Gwen burst into tears and tried to stop them by pinching her nose.

Travis held up the can and shouted, "Aa-ngul!"

She looked at him, first with anger, then defeat. "This is stupid. You've got me feeling like a criminal and I didn't do anything."

"How much more money did you get from Lowell?"

"Nothing!"

"One-shot deal?"

"Yes!"

"How often have you seen him since?"

"Never."

"He lives in Topanga, you're five miles away in La Costa, and you've never seen him?"

"Never. That's the truth. We never go up there; he never comes down."

"Just one five-thousand-dollar payment and that was it?"

"That's the truth. We didn't want anything more to do with it."

"Because after hearing Doris's story you wondered if Karen had been hurt or worse?"

"We just didn't want anything to do with him- he was weird. The whole scene was weird."

"But didn't you wonder at all about Karen? Five thousand dollars in a paper bag, and then he asks you to keep mum? Gives you a phony story? And she never shows up again?"

"I- it made sense, his not wanting the publicity. He was rich and famous. I figured to him five thousand was nothing- okay, I was naive. Twenty-five years old, working since I was sixteen, what was I supposed to do, give the money back and go to the sheriffs saying something was fishy? Like they would have listened to me? Right. When that deputy came to the Dollar it was wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, coffee black and a glazed donut. He wasn't taking it seriously. Told us she'd probably left town with some guy, or maybe she'd gone hiking and was up in the hills. They sent helicopters up looking for her; for all I knew she was up there!"

"What about what Doris saw?"

"Doris is weird. She drinks, she blacks out. She blows fifteen thousand dollars in one day. Why should I pay attention to some little kid freaking out?"

"Okay," I said. "Seven fifty to Lenny, Mary, and Sue, another thousand to Doris. That left thirty-two fifty for you and Tom. How'd you parlay that into a business and a beach house?"

"We had more- savings. Five years' worth. We worked hard. Some people do that."

Pulling at the dress some more. The linen had wrinkled. Her face was flushed and moist.

"So who told Felix Barnard about the party?"

"No one."

"Then how'd he find out?"

"I don't know. He probably figured it out. Talking to Marvin- the owner- about Karen's work habits. Marvin told him she was gone a lot; he'd been planning to fire her, he suspected her of cutting work to moonlight."

"Did Marvin tell you this?"

Nod. "As a warning. Barnard came in to the Dollar like he was a customer. He was my table and I served him; then he handed me his card and started asking questions about Karen. I told him I didn't know where she was- which was true. Marvin hated us fraternizing with the customers, so he came over and sent me to another table. Then I saw him sit down with Barnard and I thought, Great, he's going to find out about the party. Then Barnard left and Marvin came up to me, asking me if I knew where Karen was. I said no. He said, That idiot thinks something's happened to her, but in my opinion she's off somewhere having fun or working another job. Then he tells me he doesn't approve of the moonlighting we've all been doing. He'll put up with it from me 'cause my work's good, but Karen was an amateur, couldn't even do one job right. So I figure he told Barnard he suspected a catering moonlight and Barnard kept snooping around till he found out which party it was."

No great feat of detection. The Sanctum party had been in the papers.

"Did Barnard ever try to talk to you again?"

"Never."

And he'd never recorded his talk with Marvin D'Amato.

"Did you warn Lowell that Barnard might be snooping around?"

"No! I told you, I had nothing to do with him after he gave me the… bag."

"Did Barnard's showing up make you suspect anything about Lowell's story?"

"Why should it? I figured her cheap father had finally decided to spend some money on her."

Her arms were across her chest like bandoliers.

"Five thousand dollars, Gwen. Just to avoid bad publicity?"

She tried not to look at me. I waited her out.

"Okay," she said, "I thought it was possible she'd OD'd or something. What was I supposed to do? Whatever happened to her, she was gone. Nothing I did would bring her back."

"Was Karen into drugs?"

"She smoked a little pot."

"What kind of dope was floating around the party?"

"Pot, hash, mushrooms, acid, you name it. People were tripping out, taking off their clothes, going off together into the woods."

Meaning if there'd been a burial it would have had to be far enough away…

"Was Karen the type of girl who'd get into that kind of thing?"

"Who knows? She wasn't wild, but she wasn't any nuclear scientist either. Being at that party was the biggest thrill of her life. There were movie people all over the place."

"But you never saw her go off with anyone specific."

"Nope."

"Not with Lowell?"

"No one. I wasn't looking at who was with who. I was spooning out designer slop and trying to keep it off people's cuffs."

"What about Tom?"

"Working the bar. People were putting it away; he never even stopped for a break."

"Why'd you go to Aspen?"

She frowned, as if thinking. " 'Cause of Best. He was driving us crazy, showing up every day on our doorstep. And we were tired of seeing Marvin's sour puss."

"Why Aspen?"

"Tom had a buddy who spent the winters there, teaching skiing. He'd inherited a house just outside of Starwood. He got Tom a job tending bar at one of the lodges. I found a position at a fur shop. It was good to be away from food."

"I still don't see how you got from there to here."

"Hard work and luck. Tom's buddy needed some cash fast. The house was all he owned. It wasn't much, just a little place-"

"Why'd he need cash fast?"

Tugging. "He got busted."

"For what?"

"Drugs," she said, reluctantly.

"Are drugs what drew you to Aspen?"

"No! He was busted, not us! Check the police records there: Greg Fowler. Gregory Duncan Fowler III. He got busted for selling cocaine and needed bail money, so he signed over the house to us."

"For how much?"

"Thirteen thousand. He kicked in two of his own and put down bond on a hundred and fifty thousand bail."

"Lowell's three and ten of your own?"

"That's right."

"Not bad for a house in Aspen."

"The house wasn't as big a deal as it sounds. It was a shack, really. A hunting shack. Tom and I didn't even want it, the plumbing and electric was all shot. But Greg begged us. He said real estate was starting to take off and we'd be doing each other a favor. We lived in it while Tom fixed it up- he's good with his hands. The real estate did go crazy, all these Hollywood types flying in, buying up land.

"Our house was right next to this big parcel owned by a producer- Sy Palmer, he did Flying Angels, on TV? He really wanted our land so he could build riding stables, and he paid us seventy-five thousand. We couldn't believe it. Then we found out we needed to buy another house or pay lots of taxes, so we used the seventy-five to make a down payment on a bigger place, lived in that, fixed it up, sold it for three hundred thousand. We couldn't believe how well we were doing. Then I got pregnant."

Her glance at Travis was full of tenderness and torment. He continued to roll the can.

"The doctors knew something was wrong even before he was born, but at first he didn't seem that different. Then… I knew I had to be in a big city, near a hospital with rehab facilities. We thought for sure Best had gone back east. So we moved back, made a down payment on a land-side house on Rambla Pacifica, and opened the store. Tom figured all his old surfing buddies would give us business, and they did. So we sold the land-side house and bought the place in La Costa. "

Talking about their financial climb had calmed her.

"That's it. Anyone can go over our tax records with a fine-tooth comb. We never sold dope or chased money. It came to us. When Lowell gave us that bag, we were shocked out of our minds. Kept it in a closet for months, just sitting there. Then I told Tom, What good is this doing, just sitting here? And Greg was already calling us, telling us about the opportunities in Aspen. After we moved there, things just happened."

"Have you maintained contact with Greg Fowler?"

"I haven't."

"What about Tom?"

No answer.

"He lives down in Mexico now, doesn't he, Gwen?"

Silence.

"Near Mexico City?"

Nothing.

"Gwen?"

"No, a small village near the coast. Far from Mexico City. I don't even know the name."

"Still running dope, huh?"

"No!" she said. "Charter fishing!"

"Tom's been down there, hasn't he? Brings back a nice catch of corbina or albacore?"

"So?"

"What's the address?"

"I don't know, Greg only told Tom. He's still officially a fugitive. Please don't get him in trouble, he's really a good guy."

"Tom didn't give you the address?"

"No, he was supposed-" Drumming the table.

"He was supposed to what?"

"Meet us. In Mexico City, with a van; then we were going to drive down together. The tickets were supposed to be at the gate. I bought them myself, made sure we had special boarding help, but they said it had all been canceled- that Tom canceled them. Why would he do that? Why?"