W Is for Wasted

there when you do.”
    Cheney made a sound that said,
Not in our lifetime
. “We don’t know how he’s going to react. He could barricade himself in the house, break out a window, and shoot at us. We might end up calling in the SWAT team.”
    “Or not,” I said. I sat down, hoping to calm myself. I couldn’t tell if I was nervous, anxious, or excited, but my blood pressure was up.
    Cheney said, “The explanation might be innocent. The gun was stolen and he wasn’t aware of it, or he knew the gun was gone and he hadn’t reported it. If we brought along a civilian, he could file a complaint.”
    “That was just wishful thinking on my part,” I said. “I know I won’t be tagging along. Department policy, public safety, or whatever else you care to cite.”
    “Good girl.”
    “Will you tell me what he says?”
    “Probably. The gist of it at any rate.”
    “Not the gist. I want you to swear you’ll remember everything he says and repeat the conversation back to me. Word for word.”
    “You got it. Word for word.”
    • • •
    I couldn’t think what to make of this odd turn of events. I was suddenly facing an information gap. Up pops Sanford Wray and until Cheney filled in the blanks, I had to let go. I returned to the office, happy to be picking up the old routines. No new business yet, but that would take care of itself in due course. I knew William was hard at work on his plans for the two funerals, and I was just about resigned to footing the bill. At least it would be something to occupy my time. I was sitting at my desk in the little bungalow downtown when I heard someone open and close the front door.
    Anna appeared. Here it was October and she was in a tank top and a pair of short shorts. “Can I talk to you?”
    I hadn’t seen her for days, but Henry had told me she’d picked up a job in a beauty salon on lower State Street, which allowed her to walk to work. She was still bunking at his place, but since he had no objections, I didn’t see how I could complain.
    I said, “Sure. Have a seat. I hear you found work. How’s it going?”
    She perched on the edge of one of my visitor’s chairs. “The job’s fine. Still minimum wage, but I like the place.”
    “Good. What can I do for you?”
    “Gee, well, let’s just get down to business here.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t know you came to chitchat.”
    “I think I made a mistake.”
    This was interesting. I swear if she’d had a hankie in hand, she’d be twisting it. I noticed I wasn’t getting the benefit of those big blue eyes of hers. I waited.
    “I talked to Dr. Reed. Henry lent me his car and I drove out to the university.”
    “This was Thursday of last week?”
    “Well, yes, but I haven’t seen you since then or I’d have told you earlier.”
    “I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” I said.
    “When I told Dr. Reed I was Terrence Dace’s daughter, he was confused about why I was there when he’d already talked to you earlier that day. He got all pissy and said he couldn’t understand why you hadn’t just passed the information along.”
    “To which you replied?”
    “I was so rattled I don’t remember now, but that’s not the point. I thought he knew what you did . . .”
    “About what?”
    “Your work. He didn’t know you were a private detective.”
    “How did that come up?”
    “I was just making conversation. I told him I hadn’t been in town long. I said I was staying with your landlord, who owns the studio you rent on the same property. I said it worked out well for both of you because you were sometimes on the road. Dr. Reed asked if you were in sales and then I mentioned what you did for a living. He got upset you never identified yourself. He said you acted like you were having any old conversation about a family member.”
    “That’s what it was. I wasn’t there in any professional capacity.”
    “But you asked all those questions about the program.”
    “He volunteered. I didn’t even know enough to ask.”
    “That’s not how he remembers it.”
    I considered the situation briefly. “I don’t see how any harm was done,” I said. “I’d have preferred your keeping my personal life to yourself, but it’s too late to worry about that now.”
    “I lied a little bit and said you’d given me some of the information, but what I’d really come to ask him was something else. I told him Ethan’s concerns that Daddy’s medication might have affected his mind. Dr. Reed blew his stack. The