Riemenschneider. I’m guessing he’s a relative?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Can I ask you to trust me on this? We’ve known each other a long time, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Did I ever do anything sleazy?”
She hoped he knew about other hookers. There were always a few who made things difficult for everyone else in the business. Some grabbed the money and ran. Others showed up too drunk or stoned or distraught to perform, while still others got dim-witted ideas about blackmail. It didn’t take much to look good in comparison.
“No. Okay, he’s my cousin.”
“I need to ask him about a guy he might know.”
“Is this guy giving you problems?”
“Yeah.” In a way, it was true.
“In that case…”
“Are you close enough to give him a call, you know, smooth the way for me?”
“Yeah, we get along.”
“Thanks, Otto. I’m going to owe you big time.”
“I can see a problem, though. I mean, however this goes down, I’m going to know your real name.”
“The Diana is real, anyway.”
“No kidding. I never knew a…anyone who used her real name.”
“I know,” she said. “The rest is Andrews.”
There went her first line of defense, if Otto had a weirdo inside him waiting to come out.
“So what should I tell him about how I know you? I mean, you probably don’t want to broadcast what you do for a living. Neither do I, come to think of it.”
Diana should have thought that one through before calling. One idea occurred to her. Otto looked reasonably fit, but she had never felt any real muscle on him.
“Would it be too ridiculous to say you’re trying to get into shape? I do some personal training. But if you’d rather die than work out, and everybody knows that…”
“No, that’s a good idea.”
Otto paused.
“Does this mean you’re through with me?”
“I hope not, Otto. I always figured you for a guy I could trust.”
He grunted, but it came out sounding pleased. She had met few men who didn’t enjoy feeling special.
“Hold on a second.” He set the phone down on a hard surface. A minute later he picked it up again. “Here’s his work number. He works at the DMV, but I’m hoping you won’t hold that against him.”
“Furthest thing from my mind, Otto.”
“I’ll call him right now, let him know you’ll be in touch.”
She thanked him again and hung up. She decided to wait a half hour and try Paul Riemenschneider.
Otto’s cousin picked the phone up after one ring.
“Hi. This is Diana Andrews. We were in high school together…?”
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Paul. “I remember you. I almost hope you don’t remember me, because I was pretty annoying.”
Diana made a face. His words meant that she could have skipped the call to Otto.
“I, um, doubt you were that bad.”
“Thanks for the white lie. I was the little guy with the pimples—the one you bumped into every time you turned around.”
“I’m definitely drawing a blank on that.”
“That’s cool. It means maybe I have a chance.”
He put a joking tone into his comment, but something serious lurked underneath.
Oh hell, she thought.
She reminded herself to keep that thought to herself. She needed his help.
“I need to ask you about a guy from Driscoll. You might have known him better than I did.”
“Who would that be?”
“Dexter Grogan,” she said.
Silence.
“Not my favorite topic.”
He sounded ready to hang up.
“You know him from football, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He might be a problem for me. I’m hoping you’re willing to help.”
“A problem? That I can believe.”
“How so?”
“You know,” he said, “I’m not comfortable talking about this in the office. Too many people around.”
“Have you had lunch yet?”
She looked at the clock. It was almost two, and she realized she was hungry.
“I don’t usually get away for lunch.”
“Could you? On me?”
“I guess. I wouldn’t have time for anything but the food court at the
“Why do you want to know?”
“Can I ask you to trust me on this? We’ve known each other a long time, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Did I ever do anything sleazy?”
She hoped he knew about other hookers. There were always a few who made things difficult for everyone else in the business. Some grabbed the money and ran. Others showed up too drunk or stoned or distraught to perform, while still others got dim-witted ideas about blackmail. It didn’t take much to look good in comparison.
“No. Okay, he’s my cousin.”
“I need to ask him about a guy he might know.”
“Is this guy giving you problems?”
“Yeah.” In a way, it was true.
“In that case…”
“Are you close enough to give him a call, you know, smooth the way for me?”
“Yeah, we get along.”
“Thanks, Otto. I’m going to owe you big time.”
“I can see a problem, though. I mean, however this goes down, I’m going to know your real name.”
“The Diana is real, anyway.”
“No kidding. I never knew a…anyone who used her real name.”
“I know,” she said. “The rest is Andrews.”
There went her first line of defense, if Otto had a weirdo inside him waiting to come out.
“So what should I tell him about how I know you? I mean, you probably don’t want to broadcast what you do for a living. Neither do I, come to think of it.”
Diana should have thought that one through before calling. One idea occurred to her. Otto looked reasonably fit, but she had never felt any real muscle on him.
“Would it be too ridiculous to say you’re trying to get into shape? I do some personal training. But if you’d rather die than work out, and everybody knows that…”
“No, that’s a good idea.”
Otto paused.
“Does this mean you’re through with me?”
“I hope not, Otto. I always figured you for a guy I could trust.”
He grunted, but it came out sounding pleased. She had met few men who didn’t enjoy feeling special.
“Hold on a second.” He set the phone down on a hard surface. A minute later he picked it up again. “Here’s his work number. He works at the DMV, but I’m hoping you won’t hold that against him.”
“Furthest thing from my mind, Otto.”
“I’ll call him right now, let him know you’ll be in touch.”
She thanked him again and hung up. She decided to wait a half hour and try Paul Riemenschneider.
Otto’s cousin picked the phone up after one ring.
“Hi. This is Diana Andrews. We were in high school together…?”
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Paul. “I remember you. I almost hope you don’t remember me, because I was pretty annoying.”
Diana made a face. His words meant that she could have skipped the call to Otto.
“I, um, doubt you were that bad.”
“Thanks for the white lie. I was the little guy with the pimples—the one you bumped into every time you turned around.”
“I’m definitely drawing a blank on that.”
“That’s cool. It means maybe I have a chance.”
He put a joking tone into his comment, but something serious lurked underneath.
Oh hell, she thought.
She reminded herself to keep that thought to herself. She needed his help.
“I need to ask you about a guy from Driscoll. You might have known him better than I did.”
“Who would that be?”
“Dexter Grogan,” she said.
Silence.
“Not my favorite topic.”
He sounded ready to hang up.
“You know him from football, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He might be a problem for me. I’m hoping you’re willing to help.”
“A problem? That I can believe.”
“How so?”
“You know,” he said, “I’m not comfortable talking about this in the office. Too many people around.”
“Have you had lunch yet?”
She looked at the clock. It was almost two, and she realized she was hungry.
“I don’t usually get away for lunch.”
“Could you? On me?”
“I guess. I wouldn’t have time for anything but the food court at the
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