D Is for Deadbeat

slut so why would she help me?"
    "She might've had reasons of her own."
    "I didn't kill him, Kinsey, if that's what you're getting at."
    "That's what everyone says. You're all wide-eyed and innocent. Daggett was murdered and nobody's guilty. Amazing."
    "You don't have to take my word for it. Ask Billy. Once he gets back, he can tell you who it was for sure, anyway."
    "Oh hey, sounds great. How's he going to manage that?"
    There was a pause, as if she'd said something she really wasn't authorized to say. "He thought he recognized somebody at the funeral and then he figured out where he'd seen 'em before," she said reluctantly.
    I blinked at the telephone receiver. In a quick flash, I remembered Billy's staring at the little group formed by the Westfalls, Barbara Daggett, and the Smiths. "I don't understand. What's he up to?"
    "He set up a meeting," she said. "He wants to find out if his theory's right and then he said he'd call you."
    "He's going to meet with her?"
    "That's what I said, isn't it?"
    "He shouldn't be doing that by himself. Why didn't he notify the police?"
    "Because he doesn't want to make a fool of himself in front of them. Suppose he's wrong? He doesn't have any proof, anyway. Just a hunch is all and even that's not a hundred percent."
    "Do you have any idea who he was talking about?"
    "Uh-uh. He wouldn't tell, but he was pretty happy with himself. He said we might get some money after all."
    Oh God, I thought, not blackmail. I could feel my heart sink. Billy Polo wasn't smart enough to pull that off. He'd blow it like he did every other crime he tried. "Where's the meeting taking place?"
    "What makes you ask?" she said, turning cagey.
    "Because I want to go!"
    "I don't think I should tell."
    "Lovella, don't do this to me."
    "Well, he didn't say I could."
    "You've told me this much. Why not the rest? He could be in trouble."
    She hesitated, mulling it over. "Down at the beach somewhere. He's not dumb, you know. He made sure it was public. He figured in broad daylight, there wouldn't be any problem, especially with other people around."
    "Which beach?"
    "What if he gets mad at me?"
    "I'll square it with him myself," I said. "I will swear I forced the information out of you."
    "He's not going to like it if you show up and spoil everything."
    "I won't spoil it. I'll lurk in the background and make sure he's okay. That's all I'm talking about."
    Silence. She was so slow I thought I'd scream. "Look at it this way," I said. "He might be happy for the help. What if he needs backup?"
    "Billy wouldn't need back up from a woman."
    I closed my eyes, trying to keep my temper in check. "Just give me a hint, Lovella, or I'll come over to the trailer and rip your heart out by the roots." That, she heard.
    "You better never tell him I told," she warned.
    "Cross my heart and hope to die. Now come on."
    "I think it's that parking lot near the boat launch…"
    I banged the phone down and snagged my handbag. I locked the office in haste and ran down the hall, going down the back stairs two and three at a time. I'd had to park my car at the far end of the lot and once I got to the pay booth, there were three other cars in front of mine. "Come on, come on," I murmured, banging on the steering wheel.
    Finally, it was my turn. I showed the attendant my parking permit and shot through the gate as soon as the bar went up.
    Chapel is one way, heading up from the beach, so I had to turn right, take a left, and hit the one-way street going down again. I caught the light wrong at 101 so that delayed me. I didn't want to miss this one. I didn't want to show up two minutes late and miss the only chance I might have. I pictured a citizen's arrest… me and Billy Polo saving the day.
    The light turned green and I crossed the highway. Two blocks more and I reached Cabana where I took a right turn. The entrance to the lot I wanted was all the way around the bend near Santa Teresa City College. I got a ticket from the machine and threaded my way along the perimeter of the lot. I scanned the parked cars, hoping for a glimpse of Billy's white Chevy. The marina was on my right, the sun reflecting starkly from the white sails of a stately boat as it glided out of the harbor. The boat launch itself was at the very end of the parking lot, through a second parking gate. I pulled a second ticket and the arm went up. I found a slot and left my car, proceeding on foot.
    Four joggers passed me. There were people on the boat dock, people on the