Spiral

slurs about him?”
    ”No, I sure don’t. But I do know this. I took a bullet once for this here municipality, and there’s people in high places remember that.”
    ”Cascadden—”
    ”And besides, who’s gonna know what we been talking about anyways?”
    I heard the click before I could finish counting this time.

    On my way to the back door, I heard it opening. When I reached the kitchen, David Helides was just closing it behind him. He still wore a sweatshirt and pants, but these were smudged with dirt, as were his hands and cheeks as he turned into the light.
    And jumped back like a scalded cat.
    ”I’m sorry ,” I said. ”Didn’t mean to scare you.”
    One of the hands went to his chest, naturally rather than theatrically. Then his eyes cast down toward the floor. ”I am just not used to... strangers in the house.”
    ”I’m not so much a stranger anymore.”
    ”No.” A glimmer of smile. ”No, you are not.” Then it seemed as though a jolt went through him as his head jerked back up. ”My father, is he...?”
    ”He’s all right.” I decided to chance it. ”But someone else is missing.”
    Helides squinched his eyes shut. ”Who?”
    ”Malinda Dujong. And now Justo Vega.”
    The eyes opened. ”Malinda... Mister... How?”
    ”I was hoping you might know.”
    ”Me?” Eyes back to floor. ”How would...?”
    I said, ”I’d like to talk with you about that, but do you want to change first?”
    ”Change?”
    ”Out of those clothes.”
    ”Oh.” He looked down at himself, wiping both hands vigorously on the thighs of the sweatpants. ”Oh, no. I always come back like this.”
    ”Back?”
    ”From my plants.” He gestured behind him. ”But we can sit outside... if you want.”
    ”Outside.”
    ”I like it by the water... at night. When no one can... see who I am.”

    I watched David Helides drag a white resin chair from the perimeter of the external portion of the pool toward the Intracoastal Waterway. He positioned the chair in the shadow of a large-crowned tree, the big sailboat creaking against its dock.
    I followed Helides with a matching seat for me. By the time I reached the tree, he was already sitting down, legs stretched out rather than bunched, shoulders loose rather than tensed.
    Lowering myself into the second chair, I said, ”You seem a bit more relaxed.”
    From the shadows, his voice was as hard to hear as his face was to see. ”Like I told you, I enjoy it by the water. The tree”—he moved his hand over his head—”protects me.”
    ”What kind is it?”
    ”An alien.”
    I paused. ”An alien?”
    ”Not indigenous to Florida, an immigrant.” Then some hesitation. ”My father prefers simpler trees that need little care.”
    ”He was always a low-maintenance kind of man.”
    ”With a... high-maintenance kind of son.”
    I didn’t reply.
    ”I am sorry,” said Helides. ”My comment probably made you uncomfortable.”
    ”A little.”
    I could see his head bob once against the tree-line behind him. ”We all strive to... please my father, each of us in his own way.”
    Somehow it troubled me that Helides was right. ”The Colonel said that he thought Malinda Dujong might help you.”
    No movement of the head this time, and I couldn’t read his eyes. ”She tried.”
    ”How?”
    ”By sitting with me. Only she did not want to play at the computer like... Veronica.”
    ”What did Ms. Dujong do?”
    ”Talked. Or asked questions to make me talk.”
    ”About...?”
    ”What I did with my time, what I wanted to do.”
    ”Such as?”
    ”My plants... my computer...”
    When Helides petered out, I said, ”When was this?”
    ”I do not know.”
    ”Approximately?”
    Almost a shrug. ”Days ago, a week?”
    ”Before or after the birthday party?”
    Helides waited a moment. ”It must have been . . after.”
    ”Why?”
    ”Because Malinda asked me if I knew why Veronica acted that way.”
    ”But I thought Ms. Dujong wasn’t at the party.”
    ”She was not. But she wanted to know... anyway.”
    ”And what did you tell her?”
    ”That I...”
    ”Yes?”
    Another moment. ”That I thought maybe Veronica was on... drugs.”
    ”Drugs?”
    ”Yes. The way she acted was”—a cough like his father’s laugh—”crazy, like my brother sometimes gets... on cocaine.”
    I thought again about the autopsy report on Veronica’s body. About the video that Kalil Biggs shot at the party. About the other one of the recording session that Mitch Eisen showed me in