True-Life Adventure

get back to San Francisco.”
    Sardis smiled. “Uh-uh. I just called Crusher at Fall River Mills. He’s gassing up now.”
    “What about your job?”
    “I called in sick.”
    “Let’s get going.”
    “I’ve still got another phone call to make.” And she went off to call a neighbor to feed Spot for a few days.
    Rachel took us to Fall River Mills, said, “Y’all come back,” and bumped back down the road in her pickup.
    “Sardis, sugar,” I said, “why don’t y’all talk like that?”
    She said, “Never use y’all in the singular.”
    “Let’s go!” Crusher wasn’t only gassed up, he was revved up as well. I never saw a man so eager to leave the planet.
    He looked at his watch. “Even with a gas stop we’ll make it by early afternoon.”
    “To Flagstaff?”
    “Hell, no. Right to the South Rim. That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?”
    “Not if you have to make another unconventional landing.”
    “You didn’t like that landing? Most fun I ever had.”
    “It was great. I just don’t want to get in trouble with the law and end up in some Arizona jail.”
    “Relax. There’s an airstrip.”
    We may not have relaxed, but at least we didn’t throw up anymore. The weather was wonderful— no challenge at all for Crusher— so it was a pretty flight. And if I thought landing at dawn in a redwood forest was impressive, I was a callow pup. Redwood forests are tall and attractive, but so am I. You want to be impressed, go to the Grand Canyon. I was in the front of the plane and Sardis was sitting in the back, but that didn’t stop us from holding hands on the way down. We weren’t scared; it was just lonesome with that much beauty around.
    Crusher seemed kind of depressed there was no place else to fly us to, but then he got the idea he could just take a joyride around the canyon and the state and maybe the whole Southwest, and that cheered him up. He called his office and said he’d be back next week. Then he had a hot dog and a Coke and flew off again, leaving me wishing there was something in life I loved as much as he loved flying. A woman, maybe. Maybe Sardis. But the thing was, I had lover’s block.
    So it looked like I wasn’t going to be soaring off into the wild blue. I was going to have to live with a cat and pound out mysteries that didn’t sell and occasionally do a job of work to support both cat and habit.
    It was a grim thought, and here I was at the Grand Canyon with a beautiful, wonderful woman. Who in the world wouldn’t envy me? So of course cooler heads prevailed and I quit thinking grim thoughts. It was just for a moment, watching Crusher fly off, that I had that funny twinge.
    Then I got busy and started having a good time. But first I called Joey Bernstein. As usual, he was thrilled to hear from me:
    “Mcdonald, goddammit, who authorized expenses to Lassen County?”
    “Lassen County? I’m not in Lassen County.”
    “Some forest ranger woke me up at six A.M. to say you were.”
    Oho. So young Bill Carver wasn’t as gullible as he seemed. He’d called Joey when he stopped at the ranger station, which wasn’t a bad move at all— if we’d been the mysterious “them,” he’d have had us cold.
    “Mcdonald? You there?”
    “I was just trying to figure out the best way to break the news. Listen, forget about Lassen County. I don’t need expenses for that, okay? I mean, my overtime’ll probably cover it. Don’t you worry your pretty head.”
    “Overtime! What the hell are you getting at, Mcdonald?”
    “How do you feel about the Grand Canyon?”
    “I’m gonna tell you something, Paul. This better be good. That’s all I’m gonna tell you. Now start talking.” I started talking. Joey was a convert by the time I got to the unauthorized highway landing. He was beside himself when I mentioned flagging Lindsay down on her raft. I told him Sardis had come along because no way was Lindsay going to talk to a perfect stranger, but he didn’t buy it. He just couldn’t understand why anyone in the world wouldn’t want to talk to a reporter any time of the day or night. Newspaper folks are funny that way.
    Anyway, we haggled for a while and I said if he felt that way about it, I’d have to tackle Lindsay by myself. I think he was ninety percent sure I was bluffing (which I was), but he wanted the story so bad he lost his judgment and agreed to pay expenses for both of us.
    Sardis hadn’t expected that.
    “Well, as long as you came all this way, it’s