Tourist Trap (Rebecca Schwartz #3) (A Rebecca Schwartz Mystery) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series)

moment—to make a phone call, it turned out. In a few moments, we were joined by none other than San Francisco’s most active human stumbling block to metropolitan justice.
    “Inspector Martinez,” said the cop, “handles all the Trapper reports.” The next half hour was the least bit dispiriting—like the North Pole is slightly chilly. By the time I got back to the office, I was wondering how hemlock would taste. But then Dad called. “Sorry I didn’t make it to court this morning.”
    “Dad! I forgot all about you.”
    “I knew you could handle things.”
    “No, I don’t mean that—I got a recess. But everything’s gone wrong. How long were you tied up on the bridge?”
    “Oh, a couple of hours. It wasn’t too hard—I found some nice people with a deck of cards.”
    “What was the damage?”
    “You have no faith in your old man—I won ten dollars.”
    “I mean on the bridge.”
    “You haven’t heard? My, you must have been busy.”
    “You could say that.”
    “Well, it was a miracle. A lot of cars smashed, but no one badly hurt. Did you hear how it happened?”
    “I heard it firsthand—the Trapper called me.”
    “Called
you
—how about Rob?”
    “He got pulled off the story, took a week’s leave from work, and doesn’t answer his phone. Even I can’t get him.”
    “You’re having quite a day.”
    “You don’t know the half of it—I went to see Liz Hughes.”
    “Ah! A bold move.”
    “I think she thinks I’m nuts.”
    “That’s okay. Let her underestimate you.”
    “She wouldn’t talk to me—she said it might upset her ‘equilibrium.’”
    “I’m sure it did.”
    “What?”
    “Well, you talked to her a little, didn’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “So you probably upset her a little.”
    “Dad, you’re a cockeyed optimist.”
    But talking to him cheered me up. Until Mom called. “Rebecca, this is too hard on your father.”
    “What is?”
    “He was on the bridge for hours this morning. And where were you, darling? I called and called.”
    “Oh? Alan didn’t tell me.”
    “I told him not to. I knew you were too busy to talk to your mother.”
    “How could I call you back if I didn’t know you were calling?”
    “I thought you might have called on your own—you knew I’d be worried about your father.”
    “Oh, I was, Mom, I was. I just wasn’t in the office, that’s all. I went to the bridge to find him.”
    “Well, darling, that wasn’t very smart. You could have got stuck in traffic yourself.”
    “I did.”
    “Too bad you didn’t call—I’d have told you not to go.”
    “I’m sure you would, Mom.”
    “Darling, I’m pleading with you; I’m begging you. Your father’s not as young as he used to be. This case he doesn’t need—and neither do you.”
    “You want us to withdraw?”
    “Just set your father free.”
    I almost laughed—perhaps I was at last developing maturity. I’d always admired Chris’s affectionately amused attitude toward Mom, but I didn’t have enough distance to ape it. This, however, was hilarious—if there was anything that kept Dad young, it was a good scrap, a game that looked as if it couldn’t be won. Ultimately, Mom had just given me reason to cheer up again—even if Lou went to the Green Room, Dad would probably live ten years longer as a result of working on the case. I said: “Okay, Mom. He’s been looking a little peaked to me, too. I’ll tell him he’s fired.”
    “But you’ll hurt his feelings.”
    “If it has to be done, it has to be done.”
    “I don’t think you can handle the case alone.” That could have hurt
my
feelings, but I knew by now that it was no reflection of Mom’s regard for my ability; she just liked to find things to be nervous about.
    “I probably can’t, Mom, but if Dad’s health is at stake—”
    “Maybe he shouldn’t leave you alone—” I knew she was genuinely torn. What was the bigger worry—the specter of Dad wearing himself out or me disgracing the family by going down in flames alone? I could see endless teasing possibilities—I could have kept her going for twenty minutes or so—but I was sure Liz Hughes would never tease her mother and I was currently taking Superwoman lessons. I said, “I’ll think about it very, very carefully, Mom. I’m sure one of us will come up with a solution.” Actually, I was sure she’d go back and forth, back and forth, undecided about the lesser of the evils, until the case was safely over; she thrived on