L Is for Lawless

the Air Force – this AVG bullshit – was just a polite explanation for his absence. The war had started by then. It sounds a lot more patriotic to say your husband's gone overseas than he's been sent up." I waited a moment, but Ray made no response. I cupped a hand behind my ear. "Care to comment?"
    He shook his head. "It's your theory. You can think anything you want."
    "You're not going to help me out?"
    "Not a bit," he said.
    I pushed away from the wall. "Well. Maybe you'll change your mind. I live around the corner from Johnny's, five doors down on Albanil. You can stop by and chat when you're ready." I moved toward the door.
    "I don't get this," he said. "I mean, what's it to you?"
    I looked back at him. "I have a hunch, and I'd like to find out if I'm right. In my line of work, it's good practice."

    For lunch, I treated myself to a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and then spent the afternoon curled up with the new Elmore Leonard novel. I'd been telling myself how much fun it was having nothing to do, but I noticed that I was faintly disconcerted by the idleness. Generally, I don't think of myself as compulsive, but I don't like wasting time. I tidied my apartment and cleaned out some drawers, went back to my book, and tried to concentrate. Late in the afternoon, I shrugged into my blazer and walked up to the corner for a bite to eat. I was thinking about an early movie if I could figure out what to see.
    The neighborhood was quiet, half the front porches picked out in light. There was a chill in the air, and the dark seemed to be coming down earlier and earlier. I could smell somebody's supper cooking, and the images were cozy. Once in a while I find myself at loose ends, and that's when I feel the lack of a relationship. There's something about love that brings a sense of focus to life. I wouldn't complain about the sex, either, if I could remember how it went. I'd have to get out the instructor's manual if I ever managed to get laid again.
    Rosie's was nearly empty, but shortly after I sat down, I spotted Babe and Bucky coming through the door. I waved and the two of them approached my back booth, walking hip to hip, their arms wound around each other's waists.
    I said, "Where's your dad, Bucky? I've been hoping to run into him. We need to talk."
    "He took a load over to the dump, but he should be back shortly," Bucky said. "You want to join us? We thought we'd sit at the bar and watch the six o'clock news until Dad gets here." In the half-light of the tavern, he was looking nearly handsome. Babe was in boots, a long jeans skirt, and a blue jeans jacket.
    "Thanks, but I may try to eat quick and catch an early movie."
    "Well, we'll be over there if you should change your mind." They sauntered off to the bar.
    Meanwhile, Rosie appeared from the kitchen and I watched her draw two beers before she came over to me. She had already pulled out her pencil and order pad and was scribbling away. "I got perfect dish for you," she said as she snatched my dinner menu. "Is slices pork liver with sausage and garlic pickles, cook with bacon. Also, I'm making you apple-and-savoy-cabbage salad with crackling biscuits."
    "Sounds inspired," I said. I didn't say by what.
    "You gonna have this with beer. Is better than wine, which don't mix good with garlic pickles."
    "I should say not."
    I ate, I must say, with a hearty appetite, though I'd probably have indigestion later. The place was beginning to fill up with the Happy Hour crowd, people from the neighborhood and singles getting off work. Rosie's had become a favorite hangout among the local sporting set, thus ruining it for those of us in search of peace and quiet. If it weren't for my fondness for Rosie and the close proximity to my apartment, I might have moved on to some new eatery. I saw Bucky and Babe move over to a table. Chester came in moments later, and the three conferred before ordering supper. By then the place was so noisy that it didn't seem tactful to join them and launch into talk about Johnny's past history.
    At 6:35 I paid my check and headed out the front door. I was already losing interest in the movie, but there was always a chance I could generate enthusiasm from "the sibs."
    When I got home, I crossed the back patio and knocked at the frame. I heard a muffled "Yoohoo!" I peered in through the screen and spotted Nell sitting in a wooden kitchen chair pulled up close to the stove. She was peering in my direction, and when she saw me she motioned me in.
    I