B Is for Burglar

Wasn't she a screech! Lily smiled faintly, reminded perhaps of baking disasters of her own.
    I touched her arm. "We're running out of time, Lil, because know what? I think Marty Grice is going to double back and kill us too. She'll have to."
    No response. Maybe what I said had no more reality for her than this bimbo with the birthday cake. She was cracking eggs now, getting splatted in the face with yolks. Simple laws of nature were being violated here and she was the butt of the joke. In walked the husband. His mouth fell open at the mess she'd made. New paroxysms of laughter erupted. I wondered if anything in the real world had ever struck me with such force.
    I said, "Where did they go just now? Are they leaving town?"
    Lily laughed aloud. The blonde had turned the mixing bowl upside down on her husband's head. She showed him. A few bars of the show's dizzy theme song played and the station cut away to the commercial. I reached over and pressed the volume button, extinguishing the sound. In silence, a dog skidded across the linoleum with a can of chopped liver in pursuit.
    "Hey," I said, "Leonard's in trouble. Are you going to help him or not?"
    She glanced over at me, and I saw her lips move. I leaned closer.
    "Excuse me. What?"
    The strain was showing in her face and her eyes seemed unfocused. She watched me with all the concentration of a drunk, dependent and out of control. "Leonard never hurt anyone," she said. "He had no idea what she was doing 'til it was too late."
    I thought about Mike's report of Leonard's passion for his wife. I didn't see him as an innocent victim in all of this, but I kept my big mouth shut. "As long as he knows anything, he's in danger. If you'll tell me where they're going, I can get him out of it."
    She spoke in a whisper. "Just to Los Angeles 'til the new passport for Marty comes through, and then they're flying to South America." Her eyes filled with tears. "I might never see him again," she said. "And we were always so close. I can't turn him in. I can't betray him, don't you see?"
    "You're trying to do what's best for him, Lily. He'll understand."
    "It's been awful. It's been a nightmare. When you showed up, I thought he'd die of fright. He nearly had a heart attack and that's when she came back. She thinks you took Elaine's passport and she's furious at the delay. He's afraid of her. He's always been frightened by the fits she throws."
    "Of course he has. I'm afraid of her myself. She's nuts. Do they have the bags in the car with them?"
    She was breaking down now, caving in. The notion of Leonard's desertion caused too much pain and the image of packed suitcases cracked her heart. It was all too much. What difference did any of it make now that he was leaving her? "They've gone off to pack," she said. Her voice came out in a gasp and her nose had started to run. "That's were they went. The motel out by the pass and then the house. They fought about it, but she wouldn't leave it behind, because it was evidence."
    "Leave what?"
    "The... uh... you know..."
    "The murder weapon?"
    Lily nodded and nodded again. I didn't think she could stop. It was as if the cords in her neck had come loose and her head was destined to wag indefinitely. She looked like one of those bobble-head dogs people have perched up in the back windows of their cars.
    "Lily, listen to me. I want you to call the police. Go to a neighbor's house and stay there until somebody comes. Do you understand? Come on. Do you need anything? A sweater, a handbag?" I wanted to scream at her to hurry, but I didn't dare.
    She was looking at me with washed-out, worried blue eyes, her gaze as trusting as a dog's. I got her to her feet and flipped the TV off, and then bundled her out the front. I scanned the street, but there was no one in sight. I couldn't believe Leonard would let Marty hurt her, but we all knew who was in charge. In some ways I felt as if I was wasting time, but I had to make sure Lily Howe was safe. We went up to the first house that showed a light, a cedar-shingle place two doors down.
    I rang the bell. Some man opened the door and I pushed her forward, explaining that there was trouble and she needed some help. I urged Lily to call the cops and then I left. I wasn't sure if she'd do it or not.
    I got in my car and squealed out, burning rubber as I skidded around the corner two blocks down. I drove tensely, sliding through stop signs, bypassing traffic any way I could. I had to get to the house before they