P Is for Peril

Fiona in the soup. Given the amount of money Fiona stood to gain, the police would naturally pursue the notion that she'd killed him herself.
    I looked to my left and calculated the trajectory of a bullet speeding in that direction. After all, if a shot had been fired from a Colt Python across the space of the front seat and through the kindly doctor's head, one could only imagine the bullet traveling right on, smashing the car window, crossing ten feet of space, and plowing through the shingle siding of the house next door.
    I crossed the patchy stretch of grass that lay between the carport and the structure next door. It might have once been a detached garage, joined to the house now and converted to a guest wing or family room. I took out my flashlight and turned it on. I moved the bushes aside and swept the beam across the rough-hewn shingles. The bullet hole was big, as black as a spider sitting on the side of the house.
    I retraced my steps across the gravel parking pad to Crystal's front door. I rang the bell. She opened it a moment later, with an expression on her face as if I might be someone soliciting for charity or selling door-to-door. She said, "Oh. I didn't expect to see you. What's going on?"
    "I'd like to use your phone."
    She seemed puzzled but stepped back and let me pass in front of her. She was barefoot, wearing sweats, her hair pulled up on the top of her head. She peered out. "Where's your car?"
    "It's parked on the road. The engine cut out and I need a way to get home."
    "I can do that," she said. "Hang on a minute and I'll grab my keys."
    "No, no. Please. I wouldn't want to trouble you. I have a good friend nearby and he's an experienced mechanic. I'll just ask him to take a look. Maybe he can fix it right there and send me on my way."
    "Well, if that doesn't work out, I can always run you home."
    From upstairs, I could hear the thunder of music being played at top volume. I pictured Paulie and Leila planning their escape. I really hoped the cops would show up before they made good on their "getaway." I wasn't sure where Rand was. Maybe off in the bathroom, getting Griffith ready for bed.
    She showed me into the den and then stood in the doorway while I took a seat at the desk. I smiled at her briefly and said, "This won't take a minute," hoping she would leave. I picked up the receiver and dialed Jonah's home number. If Camilla answered, I was screwed. On other occasions, she'd left the receiver on the table and walked off, refusing to tell Jonah I was on the line for him. When the call was picked up, he said, "Jonah Robb."
    "Oh, hi. It's me."
    "Kinsey?" He sounded puzzled, as well he should have.
    "Yes, it is."
    "What's up?"
    "I'm at Crystal's beach house. I've got a little problem and I'd love to have you take a look."
    "All right," he said, cautiously. "I'm buying this. Like what?"
    "No problem. I can wait. Is that convenient for you? Because if it's not, I can always try Vince."
    "Well, you know, I'm right in the middle of something. Is this important?"
    "Completely. You have the address?"
    "I know the place. Are you in trouble?"
    "Not yet, but I could be. I'll see you shortly and thanks. I appreciate this."
    I replaced the receiver and when I looked up again, Anica had joined Crystal in the doorway. The two stood close together, Crystal in front, Anica slightly behind. Anica's hand was on her arm, and I suddenly understood what I'd been looking at all along. Anica said, "Is there a problem?"
    "Not really. I'm waiting for a friend of mine to come give me some help. I had some trouble with my car. He'll be here in a bit."
    "Oh. Well, why don't you join us for a glass of Chardonnay while you wait."
    "I guess I could do that."
    I followed them out onto the deck. We sat in the dark, just the three of us, sipping wine and chatting, listening to the surf rumble on the beach until Jonah arrived.

    ***

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    Document ID: fbd-224db5-90fd-1245-49ae-a1e2-ac17-f27f09
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    Document creation date: 26.02.2009
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