P Is for Peril

seem stuck-up."
    The silence settled again.
    He took another pull of beer and wiped his mouth on his palm. "Private detective. That's a new one on me. You carry a gun?"
    "Occasionally. Not often." I dislike being "drawn out," though he was probably only being polite until his brother appeared.
    He smiled lazily as if picking up on my innate crankiness. "So which do you prefer? Guys way too young for you or guys way too old."
    "I never thought about it like that."
    He wagged a finger. "Guys way too old."
    I felt my cheeks grow warm. Dietz really wasn't that old.
    Me, I like women your age," he said, showing a flash of white teeth. "You got a boyfriend?"
    "That's none of your business."
    Tommy laughed. "Oh, come on. You seeing someone steady?"
    More or less," I said. I didn't want to piss this guy off when I was hoping against hope I'd end up renting the place.
    "'More or less.' I like that. So which is it?"
    "'More,' I guess."
    "Can't be much of a romance if you have to guess." He narrowed his eyes as though consulting his intuition. "So here's what I think. I bet you're real schizy. Bet you blow hot and cold about other human beings, especially men. Am I right?"
    "Not necessarily. I wouldn't say that."
    "But you must've seen a lot of bad guys, the business you're in."
    "I've seen some bad women, too."
    "That's another thing I like. Bad girls, bad women, renegades, rebels…" He lifted his head, checking his watch as he did. "Here he comes. Fifteen minutes late. You can just about bank on it."
    I glanced at the window as a pair of headlights swept across the parking area. I rose to my feet. Tommy finished his beer and set the bottle aside. A car door slammed and shortly afterward Richard Hevener walked in, tapping a clipboard restlessly against the side of his leg. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, over which he wore a supple-looking black leather sportscoat. He was taller than Tommy and a lot stockier, his hair dark. He was the somber brother and seemed to take himself very seriously. This was going to be a chore.
    "Richard Hevener," he said as he offered me his hand. We shook hands and then he turned to Tommy. "Looks good."
    "Thanks. Finish picking up and I'm out of here. You need anything else?"
    I tuned out briefly while the two conferred. I gathered there was another property undergoing renovations and Tommy was starting work on that the following week. His manner had shifted in his brother's presence, his flirtatiousness gone. Their discussion finished, Tommy picked up the wastebasket full of carpet scraps and carried them outside, heading for the trash bin at the rear of the lot.
    "So what do you think of the place?" Richard said, turning to me. "You want to fill out an application?" His accent and his manner of speaking were much less "Texas" than Tommy's. Consequently, he seemed older and more businesslike.
    "Sure, I could do that," I said, trying not to sound like I was sucking up.
    He passed me the clipboard and a pen. "We pay water and trash. You pay your own electric and phone. Heating's prorated and it varies, depending on the season. There's only one other tenant and he's a CPA."
    "I can't believe the space hasn't been snapped up."
    "Ad just went in. We've already had a lot of calls. Three, right after yours. I'm meeting another guy tonight."
    I could feel anxiety begin to mount. I leaned on a windowsill and began to fill in the information. Applications are tedious, requiring tidbits of information that are actually nobody's business. I filled in my Social Security number and my California driver's license number, circled DIVORCED in the section that asked if I were single, married, or divorced. Previous addresses, how long, and reasons for leaving. Personal references I listed, along with the bank where I had my checking account. I made a few things up. I drew a dotted line where it asked for credit card numbers and the balance on those accounts. By the time I finished, Tommy had left. I heard his truck in the driveway and then it was gone. I handed Richard the clipboard, watching while he scanned the information.
    "If you want a deposit, I can give you one tonight."
    "No need. I'll call your references and run a credit check. We have a couple more people coming by on Monday."
    "Do you have any idea how soon you'll be making a decision?"
    "Middle of the week. Make sure we have a way to reach you in case I have a question."
    I pointed to the application. "That's my home phone and my work phone. I've