anyway, but it’s not. And maybe you can get away with an awful lot with a lot of other women. I don’t doubt that. But not every one of us accepts a charming smile as a valid excuse for ignoring what we have to say.”
She took i n a breath and waited.
“Darren?”
“You think I’m charming.”
Issabella put her forehea d against the steering wheel and felt the rushing anger inside her turning over on itself, becoming embarrassment.
“I don’t think you’re charming,” she groaned. “I think you’re presumptuous, and there’s no way this is going to work.”
“Of course it will. This isn’t rocket science, it’s a murder case. Also, guns. I read the search warrant and the evidence logs. Vernon had an impressive amount of illegal firearms in his basement. Murder and guns. How can you want out of that sort of case?”
“I think I already explained how.”
Darren’s voice dropped an octave, becoming playful and intimate, like he was right there in the passenger seat, whispering in her ear.
“If it’s too distracting for you, I can always dial down the charm while we’re working together, Izzy.”
She sat up straight again, hung up on him, and turned her phone to ‘OFF’.
“Sorry,” she said to invisible Passenger Darren. “But we’re not open for any more embarrassment today. We are full up.”
Outside her windshield, across the street, she spied a corner convenience store. Painted across the brick front of the building in big green letters, it said “COME ON IN”.
“Yup,” she agreed, and put the Buick in drive. “Absolutely, yes.”
FIVE
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP.
There was a Cheeto on the carpet, right next to her hand. Issabella let out a deep, shuddering yawn and blinked to get her vision foc used. Next to the Cheeto was an empty bottle of pinot grigio.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP
‘Ugh. Morning. Is it morning?’
It was. Sunlight poured in through her living room window. She rolled over and shut her eyes, burrowing into the couch cushions.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP
“Alright!” she shouted, and rolled onto the carpet. She straightened, and felt the ache in her legs and back. She stretched cat-like, her joints popping with little firecracker noises, and yawned deeply.
THUMP --
“Alright! I‘m coming!”
Standing on her front step was a very big woman with round, blunt features, long brown hair, black jeans, a grey short-sleeved shirt, and an expression of dour boredom. A cigarette was dangling out of her mouth.
“What?” she growled at the woma n, leaning against the door jam and feeling too lousy for any pretense at politeness or civility. She wanted to draw a bath and fall asleep in it.
“You Izzy?” t he woman said around the cigarette. “Darren said I should come over and get you so you two can get working.”
Issabella knew she was just standing there, not responding, but her mind felt like it was on some sort of half-speed setting. She desperately needed water and whatever medicine might make the world around her stop swaying back and forth.
“You know… the case ,” the woman said. “The one with the guy and the cops and the whatever? The lawyer case? The--”
“Right… the case…”
Her head felt like it was stuffed full of wet cotton.
“Yep. So let’s get going...”
“I’m not ready to go anywhere .”
“Okie-dokie. I’m in that van there. You go put your face on and let’s go, okay?”
The van was a big, full-sized thing from the ‘70s or ‘80s, with a plastic bubble sky light and running boards between the tires. It was the color s purple and rust. On the side was a rearing unicorn with a star-burst of airbrushed points blazing out from its horn.
“Okay,” Issabella heard herself saying, not sure yet why she was saying it. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”
The woman shrugged.
“Whatever. You take as long as you want getting pretty.”
“Right.”
“You have any coffee?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Yeah, I have coffee.”
“Great.
She took i n a breath and waited.
“Darren?”
“You think I’m charming.”
Issabella put her forehea d against the steering wheel and felt the rushing anger inside her turning over on itself, becoming embarrassment.
“I don’t think you’re charming,” she groaned. “I think you’re presumptuous, and there’s no way this is going to work.”
“Of course it will. This isn’t rocket science, it’s a murder case. Also, guns. I read the search warrant and the evidence logs. Vernon had an impressive amount of illegal firearms in his basement. Murder and guns. How can you want out of that sort of case?”
“I think I already explained how.”
Darren’s voice dropped an octave, becoming playful and intimate, like he was right there in the passenger seat, whispering in her ear.
“If it’s too distracting for you, I can always dial down the charm while we’re working together, Izzy.”
She sat up straight again, hung up on him, and turned her phone to ‘OFF’.
“Sorry,” she said to invisible Passenger Darren. “But we’re not open for any more embarrassment today. We are full up.”
Outside her windshield, across the street, she spied a corner convenience store. Painted across the brick front of the building in big green letters, it said “COME ON IN”.
“Yup,” she agreed, and put the Buick in drive. “Absolutely, yes.”
FIVE
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP.
There was a Cheeto on the carpet, right next to her hand. Issabella let out a deep, shuddering yawn and blinked to get her vision foc used. Next to the Cheeto was an empty bottle of pinot grigio.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP
‘Ugh. Morning. Is it morning?’
It was. Sunlight poured in through her living room window. She rolled over and shut her eyes, burrowing into the couch cushions.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP
“Alright!” she shouted, and rolled onto the carpet. She straightened, and felt the ache in her legs and back. She stretched cat-like, her joints popping with little firecracker noises, and yawned deeply.
THUMP --
“Alright! I‘m coming!”
Standing on her front step was a very big woman with round, blunt features, long brown hair, black jeans, a grey short-sleeved shirt, and an expression of dour boredom. A cigarette was dangling out of her mouth.
“What?” she growled at the woma n, leaning against the door jam and feeling too lousy for any pretense at politeness or civility. She wanted to draw a bath and fall asleep in it.
“You Izzy?” t he woman said around the cigarette. “Darren said I should come over and get you so you two can get working.”
Issabella knew she was just standing there, not responding, but her mind felt like it was on some sort of half-speed setting. She desperately needed water and whatever medicine might make the world around her stop swaying back and forth.
“You know… the case ,” the woman said. “The one with the guy and the cops and the whatever? The lawyer case? The--”
“Right… the case…”
Her head felt like it was stuffed full of wet cotton.
“Yep. So let’s get going...”
“I’m not ready to go anywhere .”
“Okie-dokie. I’m in that van there. You go put your face on and let’s go, okay?”
The van was a big, full-sized thing from the ‘70s or ‘80s, with a plastic bubble sky light and running boards between the tires. It was the color s purple and rust. On the side was a rearing unicorn with a star-burst of airbrushed points blazing out from its horn.
“Okay,” Issabella heard herself saying, not sure yet why she was saying it. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”
The woman shrugged.
“Whatever. You take as long as you want getting pretty.”
“Right.”
“You have any coffee?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Yeah, I have coffee.”
“Great.
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