delayed embarrassment for my impulsive action.
Reid and I rushed through the rain to my car. I got in, and, after waving goodbye, I watched him through the wet windshield. I was surprised when he headed toward a gold Lexus so new it still didn't have license plates. Reid generally used a county car instead of his "Toyota Camry, more because it cost him nothing in gas. I drove up beside him as he opened his driver's door.
"New car?" I asked.
"Got it just before our Napa trip. I was hoping you'd be able to ride up in it." I didn't ask how he could afford it. Money was not an issue I cared to get into with him, having learned quickly in our short marriage that he was a walking financial disaster. The car only confirmed what I already knew about our relationship. I was smart to get out with a still decent credit rating.
"Nice," I said. "Well, I've got to get up early tomorrow."
"I'll call you?" Without committing myself, I waved again. I drove back to the house, and saw Torrance following. I pulled into the drive while he parked farther up the hill. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, it had started pouring again, the rain came down cold as sleet.
My hands were frozen and I blew into them, thinking about him sitting down there in the car all night. I'd done a number of stakeouts myself, knew firsthand how miserable it was. Reasoning that he wasn't watching me as a suspect, but protecting me, I now felt sorry for him. Normay he'd have a partner, someone to talk to, but IA was a strange lot.
Kind of reminded me of the last of the Lone Rangers.
I changed into sweats and started the hot water for tea, telling myself to mind my own business. When I glanced out the window, I saw he was still there. Without thinking, I retrieved my umbrella, trudged back down the steps and over to his car. He rolled down his window a few inches at the sight of me. "No gun this time?" he asked, his breath visible in the chilly night air. He tucked his hands beneath his armpits. "Look, Torrance. I want you here about as much as you want to be here, so let's call a truce. If you're going to sit up all night and watch over me, you might as well do it where it's warm and dry." I was almost grateful when he refused my offer, but found myself trying to convince him just the same. "What if something happens? And I need you?"
"Light a candle in your window."
"One if by land, two if by sea?"
"Something like that."
"Don't forget I offered," I said. "I won't." He gave me such an odd look, I wasn't sure how he meant that last comment, but in truth I forgot about it when I got back inside. As I kicked off my wet shoes and shrugged out of my wet coat, the phone started ringing. It was well after midnight. I couldn't think of anyone who would call at such an hour. "Hello?" Silence. I hung up. Thought nothing of it. A minute later it rang again. I picked up, gave a curt, "What?" Hesitation. Then, "You alone?" "Who is this?" I asked, not recognizing the voice through the static of the bad connection. Zimmerman?
Why would he call me?
"I need to talk ... you. I want to know what ... now." The line was scratchy, like he was on a cellular ... you alone?" I glanced at my kitchen door. Had I locked it? Something thumped on my stairs. Briefly I wondered if Reid had returned. Forgotten something. My gaze flew to the east window, to Torrance's car. "Um, no," I said, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. I thought of all the evidence stacked against my partner. If it was Scolari, he could be standing outside my door on his phone as we spoke. But what if it wasn't? What if it was Paolini or one of his men? Was this the same caller who had threatened me about testifying in his case? "No," I repeated, looking around for a candle, flashlight, anything. "Who is this?" I demanded. There was a junk drawer in the end table by the couch. Matches. The phone cord stretched taut, I reached into the drawer, searched
Reid and I rushed through the rain to my car. I got in, and, after waving goodbye, I watched him through the wet windshield. I was surprised when he headed toward a gold Lexus so new it still didn't have license plates. Reid generally used a county car instead of his "Toyota Camry, more because it cost him nothing in gas. I drove up beside him as he opened his driver's door.
"New car?" I asked.
"Got it just before our Napa trip. I was hoping you'd be able to ride up in it." I didn't ask how he could afford it. Money was not an issue I cared to get into with him, having learned quickly in our short marriage that he was a walking financial disaster. The car only confirmed what I already knew about our relationship. I was smart to get out with a still decent credit rating.
"Nice," I said. "Well, I've got to get up early tomorrow."
"I'll call you?" Without committing myself, I waved again. I drove back to the house, and saw Torrance following. I pulled into the drive while he parked farther up the hill. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, it had started pouring again, the rain came down cold as sleet.
My hands were frozen and I blew into them, thinking about him sitting down there in the car all night. I'd done a number of stakeouts myself, knew firsthand how miserable it was. Reasoning that he wasn't watching me as a suspect, but protecting me, I now felt sorry for him. Normay he'd have a partner, someone to talk to, but IA was a strange lot.
Kind of reminded me of the last of the Lone Rangers.
I changed into sweats and started the hot water for tea, telling myself to mind my own business. When I glanced out the window, I saw he was still there. Without thinking, I retrieved my umbrella, trudged back down the steps and over to his car. He rolled down his window a few inches at the sight of me. "No gun this time?" he asked, his breath visible in the chilly night air. He tucked his hands beneath his armpits. "Look, Torrance. I want you here about as much as you want to be here, so let's call a truce. If you're going to sit up all night and watch over me, you might as well do it where it's warm and dry." I was almost grateful when he refused my offer, but found myself trying to convince him just the same. "What if something happens? And I need you?"
"Light a candle in your window."
"One if by land, two if by sea?"
"Something like that."
"Don't forget I offered," I said. "I won't." He gave me such an odd look, I wasn't sure how he meant that last comment, but in truth I forgot about it when I got back inside. As I kicked off my wet shoes and shrugged out of my wet coat, the phone started ringing. It was well after midnight. I couldn't think of anyone who would call at such an hour. "Hello?" Silence. I hung up. Thought nothing of it. A minute later it rang again. I picked up, gave a curt, "What?" Hesitation. Then, "You alone?" "Who is this?" I asked, not recognizing the voice through the static of the bad connection. Zimmerman?
Why would he call me?
"I need to talk ... you. I want to know what ... now." The line was scratchy, like he was on a cellular ... you alone?" I glanced at my kitchen door. Had I locked it? Something thumped on my stairs. Briefly I wondered if Reid had returned. Forgotten something. My gaze flew to the east window, to Torrance's car. "Um, no," I said, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. I thought of all the evidence stacked against my partner. If it was Scolari, he could be standing outside my door on his phone as we spoke. But what if it wasn't? What if it was Paolini or one of his men? Was this the same caller who had threatened me about testifying in his case? "No," I repeated, looking around for a candle, flashlight, anything. "Who is this?" I demanded. There was a junk drawer in the end table by the couch. Matches. The phone cord stretched taut, I reached into the drawer, searched
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