door shut. Said she was worried about fleas. And germs, when Coco licked her hand. You know how those clean, clean ladies are.”
I smiled, recalling the horrified reaction an aunt by marriage had had to our family Great Pyrenees. At eleven months and well over a hundred pounds he’d jumped on her lap. And we, less than perfect hosts, had laughed. “What happened with Claire?”
“Coco took the door as a challenge. I went in after him one day and found Claire huddled in the far corner of her bed and Coco stretching his neck as far across the bed as it would go. It was clear it wasn’t the first time they’d come to this standoff.” She smiled, just as my family had.
“And Claire never complained?”
“She isn’t that type of woman. Besides, everyone on the staff here loves Coco. No one would take her complaints very seriously. I knew she’d come around. I sat in there with Coco every afternoon until she could pat his head without shrinking back.”
“And now she’s comfortable with him?” I asked, ready to disbelieve the answer. We pet lovers have raised self-deception to an art.
“Now she’s not in enough control to …” Her hand moved down to wrap around the big dog’s chest. She turned toward the window, but it showed nothing of the dark fog-filled canyon beyond. The glass reflected her bald head and the bony hollows of her face, and in it, I suspected, she could see herself in a few weeks no different from Claire.
I said, “About our suspect in the canyon—”
“Even when I sat outside I didn’t see anyone escaping from there.”
I stood up. Coco stretched his head toward me for a final scratch. Careful to avoid Madeleine’s hand still on his neck, I scratched behind his ears. Having satisfied himself of my place in the herd, he looked away.
“Let me think overnight,” Madeleine said slowly. “Maybe there’s something I’ll recall that will help you.”
“Fine,” I said.
“You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?”
“Yes.” My voice was barely audible.
“About this time, eight-thirty.” Desperation didn’t come through in her voice; she still had that under control.
I nodded. I wanted to reach out to her. But the moment had passed; she would have looked at me as if I were crazy. I held out my business card to her. “If you do think of anything beforehand, give me a call.”
“Do you need anything, Madeleine? Mike and I are right here.” A woman with a spray of red frizzy hair stood in the doorway.
“The detective’s just about to leave. If you can wait a minute, I’ll go to the bathroom.”
“Sure, I’ll be right here.” She moved out of the doorway, leaving only her elbow to indicate she was waiting outside.
Madeleine reached for my card. Glancing at it she nodded. “Sometimes I think I’d be better off if I let them dope me up. Maybe keeping your mind clear enough to be appalled every time you can’t maneuver in the bathroom without help isn’t such a boon.” She emitted a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “But nothing’s forever.”
Now I did reach toward her hand. Automatically she lifted it as if to shake. Our hands came together at the wrong angles, intentions unclear on both sides, and ended in an awkward touch that was neither a squeeze nor a handshake.
“Till tomorrow,” she said so softly I wouldn’t have recognized the words had I not understood. But, in fact, I heard in them the request that I come back, that there was something she wanted me to know but couldn’t bring herself to say now. I could feel how much it cost her, a woman who never let herself ask an indulgence from a police officer, particularly one she’d viewed with the scorn she’d shown in the Arnero trial. I let go of her hand and left, making my way up the hillside path, wondering with each step what was so important that it had moved Madeleine Riordan to breach her own wall of reserve.
CHAPTER 5
I CIRCLED BACK TO the top of the canyon. Traffic moved
I smiled, recalling the horrified reaction an aunt by marriage had had to our family Great Pyrenees. At eleven months and well over a hundred pounds he’d jumped on her lap. And we, less than perfect hosts, had laughed. “What happened with Claire?”
“Coco took the door as a challenge. I went in after him one day and found Claire huddled in the far corner of her bed and Coco stretching his neck as far across the bed as it would go. It was clear it wasn’t the first time they’d come to this standoff.” She smiled, just as my family had.
“And Claire never complained?”
“She isn’t that type of woman. Besides, everyone on the staff here loves Coco. No one would take her complaints very seriously. I knew she’d come around. I sat in there with Coco every afternoon until she could pat his head without shrinking back.”
“And now she’s comfortable with him?” I asked, ready to disbelieve the answer. We pet lovers have raised self-deception to an art.
“Now she’s not in enough control to …” Her hand moved down to wrap around the big dog’s chest. She turned toward the window, but it showed nothing of the dark fog-filled canyon beyond. The glass reflected her bald head and the bony hollows of her face, and in it, I suspected, she could see herself in a few weeks no different from Claire.
I said, “About our suspect in the canyon—”
“Even when I sat outside I didn’t see anyone escaping from there.”
I stood up. Coco stretched his head toward me for a final scratch. Careful to avoid Madeleine’s hand still on his neck, I scratched behind his ears. Having satisfied himself of my place in the herd, he looked away.
“Let me think overnight,” Madeleine said slowly. “Maybe there’s something I’ll recall that will help you.”
“Fine,” I said.
“You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?”
“Yes.” My voice was barely audible.
“About this time, eight-thirty.” Desperation didn’t come through in her voice; she still had that under control.
I nodded. I wanted to reach out to her. But the moment had passed; she would have looked at me as if I were crazy. I held out my business card to her. “If you do think of anything beforehand, give me a call.”
“Do you need anything, Madeleine? Mike and I are right here.” A woman with a spray of red frizzy hair stood in the doorway.
“The detective’s just about to leave. If you can wait a minute, I’ll go to the bathroom.”
“Sure, I’ll be right here.” She moved out of the doorway, leaving only her elbow to indicate she was waiting outside.
Madeleine reached for my card. Glancing at it she nodded. “Sometimes I think I’d be better off if I let them dope me up. Maybe keeping your mind clear enough to be appalled every time you can’t maneuver in the bathroom without help isn’t such a boon.” She emitted a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “But nothing’s forever.”
Now I did reach toward her hand. Automatically she lifted it as if to shake. Our hands came together at the wrong angles, intentions unclear on both sides, and ended in an awkward touch that was neither a squeeze nor a handshake.
“Till tomorrow,” she said so softly I wouldn’t have recognized the words had I not understood. But, in fact, I heard in them the request that I come back, that there was something she wanted me to know but couldn’t bring herself to say now. I could feel how much it cost her, a woman who never let herself ask an indulgence from a police officer, particularly one she’d viewed with the scorn she’d shown in the Arnero trial. I let go of her hand and left, making my way up the hillside path, wondering with each step what was so important that it had moved Madeleine Riordan to breach her own wall of reserve.
CHAPTER 5
I CIRCLED BACK TO the top of the canyon. Traffic moved
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