R Is for Ricochet

message in Morse code. Either it was Cheney or it was not. The fact of the matter had already been entered into evidence so I might as well find out. If he hadn't called, that didn't necessarily mean anything. And if he had called, it didn't necessarily mean anything, either. The problem in the early stages of any relationship is that you don't know where you stand and you don't know how to interpret the other person's behavior.
    So okay. All I had to do was push the button and I'd know.
    I sat down. If he hadn't called, I sure didn't want to be the one to call him, though I was panting to tell him what had transpired between Beck and Reba. I could touch base with him for that purpose. In fact, I'd
have
to call him soon so he could set up the meeting between Reba and Vince. But aside from business – on a personal level – he'd have to make the first move. He looked like the kind of guy women called all the time – too cute and too sexy to have to expend much effort himself. I didn't want to place myself in the same category with his other women, whoever they were. How was it, though, that after only one day I was feeling insecure? Ruefully, I remembered my cockiness of the night before.
    I pushed the button and listened to the brief high-pitched squeal as the tape rewound.
Beep.
"Kinsey, this is Cheney. It's ten-fifteen and I just got off work. Give me a buzz when you get in. I'll be up." He left his number.
Click.
    I checked the clock. Over an hour ago. I made a note of his home number, then suffered a fit of indecision. He said to call, so I'd call. Nothing tricky about that… unless he was already in bed and asleep. I hate waking people up. Before I felt any more squirrelly, I punched in the number.
    He picked up on the first ring.
    I said, "If you're asleep I swear I'm going to slit my wrists with a butter knife."
    He laughed. "Not at all, babe. I'm a night owl. How about you?"
    "Not me. I'm an early bird. I usually get up at six for my run. How come you were working so late? I thought you got off at five."
    "We spent the day cooped up in a van over on Castle, taking videos of Johns going in and out of a hot new whorehouse. Heavy weekend trade coming up. We'll do a sweep as soon as we have enough little fishies in the net."
    "Nothing like sitting all day to wear you down."
    "I'm trashed. How about you?"
    "I'm pretty trashed myself," I said. "Though I did have a productive evening. You won't believe where I've been."
    "Answer can't be Rosie's. Too easy."
    "I was out with Reba. First we went clothes shopping and then we went to Bubbles where we ran into Beck and Onni. I won't plague you with the details -"
    "Hey, come on. Don't be like that. I love the details."
    "I'll tell you next time I see you. At the moment, I'm too bushed to go into a blow-by-blow. The upshot is Reba's ready to do business."
    "She's agreed to talk to Vince?"
    "That's what she told me half an hour ago."
    "What brought this on? I know she was waffling, but this falls into the too-good-to-be-true category, don't you think?"
    "No, I'm trusting her on this. Mostly because I was right there watching when the whole thing went down. Beck laid on a bunch of BS, three or four lies in a row, and Reba nailed him on all counts. I mean, not to his face. He was stringing her along and stringing her along. I think she could have dealt with that – she's probably used to his messing with her head. The kicker was, she realized he was taking Tracy to Panama when he'd implied he was going alone."
    "How'd she find out?"
    I hesitated. "We did some independent research."
    "I don't want to hear this."
    "I thought not. Bottom line is she'll meet with the feds as soon as you can set it up."
    "Shit, that's great. I'll let Vince know as soon as I can track him down. Might take a couple of days. He's hard to reach on weekends."
    "The sooner the better. We don't want her changing her mind," I said.
    "While we're on the subject, Vince checked on that FBI guy who went to Reba's with the photos. Turns out he'd been transferred from another office and wanted to show how good he was at taking the initiative. He got his ears boxed but good."
    "Glad to hear that," I said.
    "So what are you doing at the moment? Are you down for the count?"
    "Meaning what, am I in bed? No, I'm up."
    "Meaning, I don't want to keep you on the phone if you're about to hit the sack."
    "Not a bit of it. I just walked in the door. I was worried I wouldn't catch you before you went to bed