E Is for Evidence

worry. I'm not going to ask you for money and I'm not trying to get in your pants." "This comes as a big relief, Daniel. What do you want?" The bitchy tone was already back, but I swear I couldn't help myself. There's nothing more infuriating than a man who's manipulated your emotions once and now thinks he can do it again. I could still remember the charge that ran between us early in our relationship, sex-ual electricity infusing the very air we breathed. It had taken years for me to realize that I had generated most of it myself out of my own neediness. Maybe that's what was making me so churlish in retrospect. I was still chafing at myself for what a fool I'd been.
    "I need a place to stash my gear," he said.
    "What gear?"
    He shrugged. "I got a two-thousand-dollar acoustic guitar I can't leave because the trunk lock is busted on the rental car I picked up. It'll get ripped off if it's in the back seat."
    "You brought a guitar like that all the way from Flor-ida?"
    "I thought maybe I'd pick up a gig out here. I could use the bucks."
    "What happened to your friend? I thought you got a ride with someone. Why not take it to his place? Or is it a woman? I guess I never asked you that."
    "Well, no, it's a guy," he said. "The problem is, he doesn't actually live here in town. He was just passing through on his way to San Francisco and he won't be back till late on Sunday. That's why I had to rent a car of my own."
    "Where are you staying? Don't you have a place?"
    "I'm working on that. The town's booked solid be-cause of the holidays. Meantime, I can't even pull into a gas station to take a leak without hauling everything in with me. It's just for a couple of days."
    I stared at him. "You always do things like this, you know that? You're always in a bind, shifting your weight from foot to foot, hoping someone'll bail you out of the hole you're in. Try the Rescue Mission. Pick up a woman. That shouldn't be so tough. Or sell the damn thing. Why is it up to me?"
    "It's not up to you," he said mildly. "It's a simple favor. What's the big deal?"
    I ran out of steam. We'd had this same exchange a hundred times and he'd never heard me before. I might as well save my breath. I might as well give him what he wanted and get it over with. It was probably just an elabo-rate excuse to prolong our contact. "Never mind," I said. "No big deal. You can park the damn thing in a corner until Sunday and then I want it out of here."
    "Sure. No problem. Thanks."
    "I'm warning you, Daniel. If you've got a stash any-where within six blocks of here, I'll call the cops."
    "I'm clean. I told you that. You can look for yourself.
    "Skip it " I said. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't bluff on that, because he knew me well enough to know I'd have him thrown in the slammer if I caught him.

14
    I took a couple of Tylenols and slept like a stone-deep, dreamless sleep that soothed my frazzled nerves and re-stored my good spirits. I was up at 6:00, ready to jog as usual. There was no sign of Daniel parked at my curb. I did a perfunctory stretch against the fence post and headed toward Cabana Boulevard.
    The run felt great. The sky was a pearl gray streaked with pink. To my right, a dark-gray surf boomed against the hard-packed sand, leaving snowy froth in its wake. The wharf was mirrored in the glistening pools that remained when the waves receded. The sea seemed to shush the birds that shrieked overhead. This was the last day of the year and I ran with a sense of optimism the new year always brings. I'd find a way to sort it all out: Lance, Mac's suspicions about me, even Daniel's sudden appearance on my doorstep. I was alive and healthy, physically fit. Rosie's would open again on Monday. Henry would be home in another six days. I had the sassy green dress Olive had given me, and maybe a New Year's invitation if she came through as hoped. I did my three miles and slowed to a walk, cooling off as I headed home.
    I showered and dressed in jeans as usual, savoring the morning at home. By then it was 7:00 -too early for phone calls. I ate my cereal and read the L.A. Times over two cups of coffee. Daniel's guitar sat in the corner in mute testi-mony to his renewed presence in my life, but I ignored it for the most part.
    Darcy called at 7:35 from California Fidelity. She'd done a thorough search. Andy 's office was clean.
    "Shit," I said, "What about a typewriter? I was hoping we could get a match on the phony fire department report, but I didn't