B Is for Burglar

to that. The last thing in the world I need is the sheriff on my case. That's who I thought you were, as a matter of fact. They got women sheriffs these days, did you know that? Sheriffettes."
    "So I've heard."
    "What about you?" she asked. "How'd you become a detective. That's a weird way to make a living, isn't it?"
    She was becoming real chatty now that I was on my way out and I wondered if I might pump her for more information. She seemed eager to prolong the contact, like someone who's been cooped up too long with a pack of preschool kids.
    "I sort of backed into detective work," I said, "but it beats selling shoes. You don't work yourself?"
    "Not me. I'm retired. I don't ever want to work again."
    "You're lucky. I don't have much choice. If I don't work, I don't eat."
    She smiled for the first time. "I used to spend my life waiting for a break. Then I figured out I better make my own luck, you know what I mean? Nobody gives you nothing in this world, that's for sure."
    I feigned agreement, glancing down toward the parking lot.
    "I better be on my way," I said. "But could I ask you one more thing?"
    "Like what."
    "Do you know Elaine's other friends? There must be someone who knows how to get in touch with her, don't you think?"
    "I'm the wrong one to ask," she said. "She used to visit me down in Lauderdale, so I don't know friends of hers up here."
    "How'd you connect up this time? I understand she flew down almost on impulse."
    She seemed momentarily perplexed at that, but regained her composure. "Yeah, that's right, she did. She called me from the airport in Miami and then picked me up on her way through."
    "In a rented car?"
    "Yeah. An Oldsmobile Cutlass. White."
    "How long was she here then before she took off?"
    Pat shrugged again. "I don't know. Not long. A couple of days, I guess."
    "Did she seem at all nervous or upset?"
    She became faintly irritated at that. "Wait a minute. What are you getting at? Maybe I could come up with something if I knew what was on your mind."
    "I'm not sure," I said mildly. "I'm just fishing around, trying to figure out what's going on. The people who know her in Santa Teresa think it's unusual that she'd disappear without a word."
    "But she told me. I've been telling you that. What is she, some kind of kid that she has to call home all the time and tell someone where she is and what time she's getting in? What's the problem?"
    'There isn't one. Her sister wants her to get in touch. That's all it amounts to."
    "Yeah, all right. I get touchy now and then. I've been under a lot of pressure and I don't mean to take it out on you. She'll probably call at some point and I'll give her your name and number, okay?"
    "Great. I'd appreciate that."
    I held out my hand and she shook it briefly. Her fingers were dry and cold.
    "It's been nice talking to you," I said.
    "You too," she replied.
    I hesitated, glancing back at her. "If you do move into a motel, how will Elaine know where to reach you?"
    The smirk was back, but there was something else in her eyes. "How about I'll leave a forwarding address with Makowski, my friendly building manager downstairs. That way you'll know how to reach me too. Will that do the trick?"
    "Probably so. Thanks much."

Chapter 4
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    I moved off toward the stairs. I could feel her eyes on my back and then I heard the door close. I continued on down to the parking lot and got in my car and drove off. I wanted to talk to Mrs. Ochsner in the next apartment, but I thought it was better to wait. Something about Pat Usher bothered me. It was not just the fact that some of what she'd told me was untrue. I'm a born liar myself and I know how it's done. You stick as close to the truth as you can. You pretend to volunteer a few bits of information, but the facts are all carefully selected for effect. Pat's problem was that she was having to wing far too much and she'd started to embroider where she should have kept her mouth shut. That business about Elaine Boldt picking her up in Fort Lauderdale in a rented white Cutlass was crap. Elaine didn't drive. Tillie had told me that. At the moment, I couldn't figure out why Pat had lied about it, but it must have been significant. What really bothered me about her was that she had no class and it struck me as odd that Elaine Boldt had chosen her for a friend. From what Tillie and Beverly told me, I had the feeling Elaine was a bit of a snob and Pat Usher didn't seem quite glossy enough to satisfy.
    I found a drugstore half