R Is for Ricochet

reach me, you can talk directly to him."
    "Will do."
    After he left, I sat at my desk, trying to figure out what to say to Reba. There was really no point in pussyfooting around. She'd dug herself a hole and the sooner she climbed out of it, the better off she'd be. As long as Beck got the money back, he might not inquire too closely how it had disappeared. I picked up the handset and punched in the number for the Lafferty estate. I went through a preliminary round of conversation with the housekeeper, Freddy, who told me Reba was still in bed. "Shall I wake her?"
    "I think you better."
    "One moment. I'll put you on hold and have her take the call in her room."
    "Great. Thanks."
    I pictured Freddy in her crepe-soled shoes, padding down the hall and up the stairs, holding on to the rail. The silence went on for a bit, but I imagined her knocking on Reba's door and then a groggy interval before she picked up, which was sure enough how she sounded when she came on the line. '"Lo?"
    "Hi, Reeb. It's Kinsey. I'm sorry to wake you."
    "That's okay. I should probably be getting up anyway. What d'you want?"
    "I need to ask you about something and you have to swear to tell the truth."
    "Sure." She was already sounding more alert, so I thought she had a fair idea what was coming.
    "Remember when we were together Saturday morning on that little voyage of discovery?"
    Silence.
    "Did you lift a packet of hundred-dollar bills?"
    Silence.
    "Never mind admitting it. The point is, Beck knows."
    "So what? Serves him right. It's like I told him at Bubbles, he owes me, big time."
    "Only one tiny problem. The money wasn't his. It was Salustio's."
    "No."
    "Yes."
    "Shit. Are you sure? I thought it was Beck's, like he was packing it to take with him when he left."
    "Nuhn-uhn. He was verifying Salustio's total before making a deposit to his account. Now he's twenty-five grand short."
    I could hear her lighting a cigarette. I said, "What made you think you could get away with it?"
    "It was a
whim,
like an impulse. Haven't you ever done anything like that? Spur of the moment. I just did it, that's all."
    "Well, you better put it back before Beck figures it out."
    "How'm I supposed to do that?"
    "How would I know? Stick it in an envelope and leave it at Willard's desk. He can pass it on to Marty or take it up himself -"
    "But why do I have to do anything? Beck can't prove it, can he? I mean, how can he prove it when I didn't leave fingerprints?"
    "For one thing, he's got security tapes that show you going in and out of the building. Beyond that, he doesn't have to prove a thing. All he has to do is tell Salustio and you're screwed."
    "He wouldn't do that to me, would he? I mean, I know he's a shit, but he wouldn't tell Salustio. You think?"
    "Of course he would! Salustio expects him to cough up the missing twenty-five grand."
    "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."
    "Look, Reeb. I'll say this again. Vince Turner can probably help if you'll turn around and help him."
    "What good does that do me with Salustio?"
    "Maybe Vince can put you somewhere safe until it's all ironed out."
    "Oh, man. This is bad. You think I should call Beck?"
    "You'd be smarter to keep away from him and talk to Vince instead. He wants to see you anyway before you meet with the feds."
    "What feds? I don't have a meeting with the feds. The guy dropped the ball."
    "He did not. The meeting's been changed to tomorrow afternoon at four. I'll pick you up at twelve-thirty and you can spend a couple of hours with him first."
    "About bloody time."
    "I told you it would take time."
    "Yeah, well, it's too late
now.'"
    "Meaning what?"
    "Meaning, I gotta think how to handle this. I'll call you back." The line went dead.
    So much for my powers of persuasion.
    That night, Cheney was busy with softball practice, so I was on my own. I had dinner at Rosie's, after which I retired to my apartment and spent the evening with a book.
    Twelve-fifteen on Wednesday, I headed south on the 101, relieved to be in motion again. Once I delivered Reba to Vince's office, he could take charge of her and I'd be off the hook. The drive up Bella Sera was exactly as it had been on prior occasions, right down to the scent of bay laurel and the smell of dry grass. It had been thirteen days since I'd taken this route on my way to meet Nord Lafferty, wondering what he could possibly want with me. Escort his daughter home from prison. How complicated was that? In the days since we'd returned, her life had slowly come unraveled.