L Is for Lawless

day of taking sick. Four cousins, an aunt. Sometimes two would go on the same day and we'd have a double funeral. That entire line was wiped out in a five-month period between November and March. Those of us who took after Mother are the only ones left, and we expect to go on for years. Mother lived to be a hundred and three. Right about the time she turned ninety, she got so crabby we threatened to withhold her sour mash whiskey if she didn't straighten up. She only required six tablespoons a day, but she believed it was absolutely essential to life. We put the bottle right up on the shelf where she could see it but couldn't reach. That settled her right down, and she went on for another thirteen years just as gentle as a lamb."
    She closed the refrigerator door temporarily and returned to the sink, where the dishwater was now cool enough to allow her to wash the meat bin. She opened the cabinet under the sink, and I saw a frown cross her face.
    "What's the matter?"
    "Henry's out of the oven cleaner I like to use on these racks." She peered in the cabinet again. "Well, I'll just have to use a little elbow grease."
    "You want me to make a quick run to the market? I can pick some up. It won't take ten minutes."
    "No, that's all right. I can always use a scrub pad. It'll clean up in a jiffy. You have other things to do."
    "I don't mind a bit. I was thinking about a movie, but I've lost interest, to tell the truth."
    "Are you sure you don't mind?"
    "Scout's honor," I said.
    "I'd surely appreciate it. We're low on milk, too. Once the kids have their milk and cookies tonight, there won't be enough for breakfast. This is really awfully sweet."
    "Don't even think about it. I'll be back shortly. What kind of milk? Low fat?"
    "Half a gallon of skim. I'm trying to wean the kids off fat where I can."
    I searched through my handbag for the car keys and then eased the strap across my shoulder as I headed out the door. My car was parked about two doors down. I fired up the ignition and pulled away from the curb. At the corner of Albanil and Bay, I turned right, passing Bucky's place, which had become my new reference point in the neighborhood. I'd probably never pass the house again without turning to look. I peered down the drive toward the garage apartment. Lights were on upstairs, and I saw a shadow move across the front windows.
    I slowed to a stop, peering up at the apartment. I didn't think any of the Lees were home. The last I'd seen, the three of them were still up at Rosie's having supper. The lights went out and I saw someone emerge onto the darkened landing.
    Well, this was interesting. I spotted a parking place and pulled in at the curb. I turned the engine off and doused my headlights. I adjusted the rearview mirror so that it was angled on the drive and then slid down in the seat.
    A man moved out of the driveway with a hefty-looking duffel bag in his right hand. He was walking in my direction, his head down, his shoulders hunched. From the dim glow of the street lamp, I could see it wasn't Bucky, Chester, or Ray. This guy had a full head of dark, curly hair. His clothing was dark, and he must have been wearing rubber-soled shoes because his footsteps made hardly any sound on the pavement as he passed. He set off across the street. I kept him in sight, watching with curiosity as he approached a white Ford Taurus parked at the far curb, facing the opposite direction. He shifted the duffel to his left hand while he took out his car keys and unlocked the door on the driver's side. Puzzled, I glanced back toward Bucky's, but the premises were still dark and there were no signs of life.
    The man opened the door and shoved the duffel toward the passenger seat, slid in behind the wheel, and slammed the car door shut. I watched as he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, smoothed his hair back, and settled a Stetson on his head. I eased out of sight while he started his ignition, flipped the lights on, and took off, his headlights raking my windshield. As soon as he turned the corner, I started my car and pulled away from the curb. I did a quick U-turn, yanked on my headlights, and took the corner maybe six seconds after he had. I caught a glimpse of his taillights as he turned right on Castle. I had to floor it to maintain visual contact. Within minutes he'd turned onto the northbound freeway off-ramp, heading toward Colgate. I eased into the line of traffic two cars behind him and kept my foot firmly pressed to