U Is for Undertow

before, stretching his legs out in front of him. I settled in my swivel chair, picked up the handset, and punched in Cheney’s number at the police department. As soon as he picked up I identified myself.
    “How’s it going?” he asked.
    I laid out the sequence of events, starting with my trip to Climping Academy and ending with Sutton’s identification of the area where he’d seen the two guys digging. When I was finished, there was a silence while he digested the information.
    He said, “I have to talk to the detective sergeant. I’ll call you back.” I wasn’t sure how long we’d have to wait, but it was clear I needed to stay put so Cheney could get back to me, if need be. “You want coffee? I can make a pot,” I said.
    “No thanks. I’m wired as it is. You have a bathroom I could use?”
    “Take a left in the hall. It’s the only door on your right.”
    “Thanks.”
    It was 3:15 and I couldn’t remember if I’d eaten lunch, which probably meant I hadn’t. I opened my desk drawers in turn, but there wasn’t so much as a Tic Tac in the way of nourishment. I picked up my shoulder bag and went into search-and-seizure mode, peering into every crack and crevice. I like a big bag with a lot of nooks and crannies—outside compartments for magazines and books; inside pockets, some with zippers, some without; and a pouch on one end for car keys. I found two red-and-white-striped peppermints in clear cellophane. They’d been in my bag so long, the mints had softened and were now welded to the wrapping. I could have popped one in my mouth as it was and made it last for days.
    I heard a toilet flush, and moments later Sutton reappeared.
    “Want a mint?” I asked.
    “No, thanks.” He resumed his seat and watched me peel the cellophane off the mint. He stirred restlessly. “So what happens next?”
    I laid the mint on my tongue. It was heavenly to feel the sugar surge through my mouth. I tucked it in against my inner cheek so I could talk without spitting. I said, “No idea. I guess it depends on how seriously they’re taking this.”
    We sat there in silence. I picked up a letter opener and tapped the point against the edge of my desk, practicing to be a drummer in case the private eye biz dried up. Sutton spent his time looking around the office at the bad paint job and the so-called wall-to-wall carpeting that had seen better days. I could tell he wasn’t impressed. I make enough money to support myself, but I’m not big on “day-core.” Then again, neither was he. Given what I’d seen of his place, he was hardly one to offer decorating tips.
    I don’t keep magazines in my office. I’m not a doctor or a dentist so what’s the point? Someone comes to see me and I’m here, we sit down and talk. If I’m not here, the door’s locked and they have to wait. Sutton didn’t seem any better equipped than I was for chitchat. I’d known the guy one day, and now that we’d gotten the potty question and the mint behind us, conversationally speaking, we had nothing to say to each other. I’m deficient when it comes to small talk, which is probably why I have so few friends.
    I sat in my swivel chair, willing the phone to ring, and when it did I jumped.
    It was Cheney. “Roosevelt says we can take a couple of crime-scene techs and a K-9 unit out to the site. We’re rounding people up now and should be ready to roll within the hour.”
    “Great. That’s great.”
    I gave him the address and we spent a few minutes chatting about the logistics. Alita Lane was too narrow to accommodate vehicles and miscellaneous police personnel, so we agreed to meet at the roadside parking strip near the polo field on Via Juliana. That settled, I dropped Sutton off at his house so he could pick up his car.
    On the way back to Horton Ravine, I stopped at McDonald’s and scarfed down a Quarter Pounder and fries. I wasn’t sure how long the excavation would take and I wanted to make sure I had a wholesome meal under my belt. The soft drink I ordered was a small one. No point in taxing my bladder when relief wouldn’t be in range.
    I arrived before Cheney did and used the time to change into an old pair of running shoes I kept in the trunk of my car. I hauled out my navy windbreaker and shrugged into that as well. The light was still good, but the sun was sinking, taking the pleasant daytime temperatures with it.
    Sutton arrived in his MG and parked beside my Mustang. He had the top down and Madaline, the