V Is for Vengeance

fixed her big blue eyes on me. I thought she’d seriously overdone the mascara until I realized her lashes were false. “I’m completely on my own.”
    “Oh, come on. There must be some place.”
    She reduced her whisper to a point that only animals could hear.
    I leaned close.
    “What about your apartment?” she said. “No one would think to look for me there.”
    I said, “Ah. Well, that’s a tricky proposition. Len’s already pissed off. He threatened to kill me less than an hour ago. I’m risking life and limb just talking to you. I put you up at my place, no telling what he’d do. You must have family or friends.”
    She shook her head. “Pinky’s all I got. Anything happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do.”
    “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
    “What about me? What am I supposed to do?”
    “Just don’t open the door. Someone knocks hard, call 9-1-1.”
    “I’d rather come to your place. We wouldn’t be a bother.”
    “‘We’?”
    “Me and Cutie-pie, the cat. I can’t leave him here all by himself.”
    I looked around but there was no sign of the beast. What was with these people? She was just like Pinky, trying to maneuver me into doing her a favor that would put me in the soup. Having said no once, however, I found this round easier. “Sorry, but it’s out of the question. I’d be happy to drop you at a motel.”
    “Oh no, hon. Motel won’t take a cat like him. For one thing, he sprays, and if he gets mad, which he does about half the time, he pees in the middle of the bed. So I guess I’m stuck.”
    “You’ll think of something,” I said, having no idea what.
    As she walked me down the hall to the front of the house, she pointed at the television set in the living room. She did a charade of listening devices and a transmitter and a receiver. Or at least I think that’s what it amounted to. I nodded, and when we reached the door, she said, “Well, it was nice of you to stop by. If I ever hear from Pinky again, I’ll let you know.”
    Her tone, while ostensibly normal, had a singsong quality that wouldn’t have fooled anyone with an ear to the wall.
    “Thanks and good luck,” I said.
    Whispering again, she said, “You sure we can’t stay with you?”
    “Did I mention my allergies? Put me in a room with a cat and I blow up like a puffer fish. I had to be hospitalized just last month.”
    “Too bad,” she said. “I could have done you a makeover. You could really use the help.”

    Once back in my car, I cut over three blocks and turned right onto State Street, then pulled into a small parking lot where an Asian food market and an acupuncturist had set up shop side by side. I found an empty slot and sat there thinking about Pinky and where he might be. From what Dodie said, he was confident I’d figure it out. Which meant what? The only haunt of Pinky’s I knew about was the Santa Teresa Jewelry and Loan. Oh. I fired up the Mustang and drove into town. I reached lower State and cruised past the pawnshop, and when I turned at the corner, I saw Len Priddy’s dark green Chevrolet parked at the curb. Clearly, June had company and I’d have to postpone our conversation. I kept on going, a shiver of cold running up my spine.
    I returned to the office, thinking I’d call her after a decent interval had passed. In the meantime, I’d use the time to tidy up. I picked up folder after folder, reuniting them with their contents and returning them to the drawers. After fifteen minutes I took a break. I’d never had my morning coffee. I’d offered Pinky a cup, but he’d declined, citing the hurry he was in. After that I’d been distracted by Earldeen’s visit, lunch with Cheney, and my surprise visit from Len. I went down the hall to my kitchenette, picked up the coffeepot, and turned on the water. There was a hissing, pop, and spurt that made me jump half out of my skin, but no water. What the heck was that about? I remembered then that the water department had notified me of the eight-hour shutoff. I’d forgotten that I’d intended to work from home and nearly wept when I thought of all the trouble I could have avoided if I hadn’t come in.
    I abandoned the idea of coffee and went back to my desk. I looked at my watch. It had been a good thirty minutes since I’d driven past the pawnshop. Surely Len was gone. I hauled the phone book from the bottom drawer. Once I found the listing for the pawnshop, I made a note and dialed the first three digits. I don’t