O Is for Outlaw

parties for elderly widows in the neighborhood. He also supplies Rosie's restaurant with a steady line of baked goods: sandwich breads, dinner rolls, pies, and cakes. I confess I was not entirely happy to see him. While I adore him, I'm not always candid with him about my nocturnal labors.
    I opened the door. We made happy noises at each other while Henry stepped in. I tried to steer him toward the sofa, hoping to divert his attention, but before I could even protest, he leaned over and closed the newspaper to make room for the plate. There sat the four handguns, the packets of phony documents, credit cards, and cash. To all appearances, I'd turned to robbing banks for a living.
    He set the plate on the counter. "What's all this?"
    I put a hand on his arm. "Don't ask. The less you know, the better. You'll have to trust me on this."
    He looked at me quizzically, an expression in his eyes I hadn't seen before: trust and mistrust, curiosity, alarm. "But I want to know."
    I had only a split second to decide what to say. "This is Mickey's. I lifted the stuff because a sheriff's deputy was scheduled to change the locks on his doors. "
    "Why?"
    "He's being evicted. I had one chance to search, and I had to take advantage."
    "But what is all this?"
    "I have no idea. Look, I know how his mind works. Mickey's paranoid. He tends to hide anything of value. I went through his apartment systematically, and this is what I found. I couldn't leave it there."
    "The guns are stolen?"
    "I doubt it. Mickey always had guns. In all likelihood, they're legal."
    "But you don't know that for sure. Mickey didn't authorize you to do this. Couldn't you end up in trouble? "
    "Well, yeah, but I can't worry about that now. I didn't know what else to do. They were locking him out. This stuff was hidden in the walls, behind panels, in phony bathroom pipes. Meanwhile, he's in the hospital, completely out of it."
    "What happens to his possessions? Doesn't he have furniture?"
    "Tons. I'll probably offer to have things moved into storage until we see how he fares."
    "Have you spoken to the doctors yet?"
    "They're not going to talk to me. The cops put the lid on that possibility. Anyway, I made a big point of saying we've been out of touch for years. I can't come along afterward and ask for daily updates like I'm so distraught. They'd never believe me."
    "But you said you weren't going to get involved in this."
    "I know. I'm not. Well, I am a little bit. At the moment, I don't even know what's going on."
    "Then leave it alone."
    "It's too late for that. Besides, you're the one who said I ought to check it out."
    "But you never listen."
    "Well, I did this time."
    "Will you listen if I tell you to butt out?"
    "Of course. Once I know what it's about."
    "Kinsey, this is clearly police business. You can't keep quiet about this stuff. You ought to call those detectives, "
    "Nope. Don't want to. I'm not going to do that. I don't like those guys."
    "At least they can be objective."
    "So can I."
    "Oh, really?"
    "Yes, really. Henry, don't do this."
    "What am I doing?"
    "You're disapproving of my behavior. It tears me up."
    "As well it should."
    I clamped my mouth shut. I was feeling stubborn and resistant. I was already in the thick of it and couldn't ball out. "I'll think about it some."
    "You better do more than that. Kinsey, I'm concerned about you. I know you're upset, but this really isn't like you."
    "You know what? It is like me. This is exactly who I am: a liar and a thief. You want to know something else? I don't feel bad about it. I'm completely unrepentant. More than that. I like it. It makes me feel alive."
    A shadow crossed his face and something familiar seemed to scurry into hiding. He was silent for a moment and then said mildly, "Well. In that case, I'm sure you don't need any lectures from me."
    He was gone before I could reply. The door closed quietly behind him. The plate of brownies remained. I could tell they were still warm because the air was filled with the scent of chocolate and the plastic wrap was foggy with condensation. I stood where I was. I felt nothing. My mind was blank except for the one assertion. I had to do this. I did. Something inside me had shifted. I could sense the muscles in my face set with obstinacy. There was no way I'd let go, no way I'd back away from this, whatever it was.
    I sat down at the counter, propping my feet on the rung of the kitchen stool. I folded the newspaper neatly. I picked up the envelope and opened