P Is for Peril

to the other house so we can sort through Dow's things."
    "How's she doing?" I could hear murmuring in the background and I got the impression Crystal might have been nearby.
    Anica lowered her voice. "She's a mess. I think it's the finality that's getting to her. Rand says she just lost it the minute she heard. She always swore something happened to him, but the whole time she must have been praying she was wrong."
    "What about Leila? How's she taking it?"
    "Oh, you know her. She was up in her room listening to music at top volume, driving everyone nuts. She and Crystal got into it, so I finally called Lloyd and asked him to pick her up and take her for the day. The quiet is heavenly."
    "What about the funeral? Is she planning to have a service?"
    "She's talking about Saturday if she can pull it together. She'll have to get the notice in the paper and an officiant lined up. Dow wasn't religious, so this is really more in the way of a memorial to him. I just called the mortuary and they said they'd make arrangements to pick him up. She's having him cremated… not that she has a lot of choice in the matter."
    "I guess not."
    "What happened? Detective Paglia never said, but I'm assuming he drowned."
    I could feel my heart lurch. "Ah. I don't know. I haven't heard anything definitive. They're probably still working to determine that. In the meantime, is there anything I can do to help?" The question seemed false even to my lie-corrupted ear, but I had to get her off the subject.
    "Not at the moment, but thanks, anyway. I should probably get back, but I'll tell Crystal you called."
    "While I have you on the line, I wondered if I could get some information. Crystal mentioned a post-office box she used to keep here in town. I need the number and location."
    "Hang on for a second." Anica placed a palm across the mouthpiece and I heard her muffled conversation with someone in the background. It reminded me of days spent at the public pool as a kid. I'd emerge from the water to find my hearing blocked, with much the same effect. It sometimes took hours before the tiny trickle of hot water cleared my ear canal.
    Anica removed her hand. "P.O. Box 505. She says it's the Mail More over in Laguna Plaza. Be sure and let her know what you find."
    "I'll do that."
    I'd no more put the phone down than it rang.
    Mariah Talbot said, "Hi. Are you free to talk or do you want to meet somewhere?"
    "This is fine. The phone's secure. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff feels dumb, but I can't help myself. Thanks for returning my call." I picked up a pen and began to doodle on a scratch pad… a dagger with blood dripping off the tip and a hangman's noose, one of my specialties. Sometimes, focusing on a doodle helps me articulate my thoughts.
    "What's up?"
    "Well, here's the situation." I went on to describe the conversation at Rosie's the previous night when Henry had laid out the bait about the jeweler in L.A.
    "You think Tommy bought it?"
    "I have no idea. I thought I'd report it because the last time we spoke I told you I wasn't going to help. Now the deed's been done, but only because Henry stepped in and did it."
    "What a cool move on his part. If it's coming from him, it'll never occur to Tommy he's being conned."
    "It's still a long shot."
    "Not so. They're hard up for cash and their property is mortgaged to the hilt. The jewelry's their only asset. They have to sell to survive," she said. "By the way, where did you and Prince Charming end up? Not in the bedroom, I hope."
    "Absolutely not," I said. "I canceled our dinner plans, which he didn't like. He pretended it was okay, but he was pissed. I wish I knew how to dump the guy without setting him off."
    "Oh, good luck. He's never going to let you get away with that. Tommy's an egomaniac. He dumps you. You don't dump him."
    "He's like a spider. He lurks. Every time I go somewhere, he crawls out. He's really getting on my nerves."
    "Well, what do you expect? These boys are both wacko. You ever want to see Richard lose it, ask him about Buddy and the bike."
    "Why? What's that about?"
    "This is a story I heard when I did the background work. This guy, Buddy, swears by the time those kids were ten, they were already competitive little shits, always at each other's throats. Jared thought it was time they learned to share, so he gave 'em a bike and said they had to take turns. Richard wasn't into taking turns so he stashed it somewhere and told his dad the bike got stolen. For weeks, he kept it