W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone Mystery)

sorry. I’ve been a wreck waiting to hear from you. That’s all I was trying to say.”
    “You like, I can drop my report in the mail to you without further ado. You might find it more instructive if I go over it in person, but that’s entirely your choice.”
    “‘Instructive’ meaning what?”
    “There’s reality and then there’s facts. I’m saying there’s a difference that I’d be happy to clarify. I should point out you could have called me at any point during these past two weeks and I’d have told you the same thing. I had the information in hand. What’s taken the additional time is the verification supplied by an out-of-state colleague purely as a courtesy to me. Do you want to take a look at it or not?”
    “Of course. I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. Mary Lee came home jumpier than I’ve ever seen her. I tried talking to her, but she shut me down. I have no idea what’s going on.”
    “The good news is I’m now in a position to fill in some blanks. I won’t say my report’s definitive, but it’s a start. I can stop by later this afternoon.”
    “That won’t work. She’s been leaving the lab early, practically barricading herself in the bedroom to make phone calls. You’d have to be here by three and you can’t stay long.”
    “Might make more sense if we conduct our business off-site. Why don’t I pick you up and we’ll go somewhere else?”
    “What if she comes home while I’m out?”
    “Leave her a note. Tell her you’re having coffee with a friend and don’t specify the gender. Want my opinion, you’d benefit from creating an air of mystery around yourself. She’s doubtless taking you for granted and that won’t help your cause.”
    •   •   •
    Pete picked up Willard at the prearranged spot, a block and a half from the Bryces’ apartment. He liked the cloak-and-dagger aspects of the meeting. He’d wanted to put Willard in the proper frame of mind, talking him through the findings before he surrendered the written account. Willard was having none of it, already impatient at having had to wait this long. He held out his hand, snapping his fingers twice as though Pete were a dog. Pete had no choice but to pass him the manila envelope.
    He drove south on the 101 while Willard removed the report and read it. Pete was uncomfortably aware of Willard’s mounting distress. He took the off-ramp at the bird refuge, where he pulled into the abbreviated parking strip twenty-five feet from the water’s edge. As a goodwill gesture, he’d picked up a bag of assorted doughnuts and two oversize cups of coffee he hoped would pacify Willard’s angst. He experienced a twinge of guilt when Willard saw the photographs, almost as though he’d betrayed the man himself.
    Once Pete shut down the engine, they sat in the car. Pete was quiet, looking out at the saltwater lagoon where a passel of ducks squatted on the muddy shore. Certain times of the year, the lagoon threw off an aroma of rotten eggs. Pete didn’t know how any of the nearby businesses could survive. Across from the parking lot, there was a restaurant, an athletic facility, and a bar called CC’s, the Caliente Café, where the off-duty cops hung out. Today the odor wasn’t too bad. The lagoon smelled faintly dank with a secondary aroma of soggy vegetation and bird doo-doo.
    Willard held the papers loosely in his lap. “This is embarrassing.”
    “I wouldn’t take that attitude. At least you know your instincts were good. Only difference is Dr. Reed’s not the one you should be worried about. From the information I managed to dig up, this is a former high school classmate. Fellow named Owen Pensky.”
    Willard’s expression was a curious mix of perplexity and gloom.
    Pete said, “I don’t mean to suggest a course of action. That’s your decision. I will say if it was me, I’d push this. Right now you really don’t know what’s going on.”
    “Why’s she even talking to the guy? I don’t understand.”
    “That’s because you don’t have all the information. If I might make a recommendation, your next move would be to put a tap on the line.”
    “Are you talking about tapping our home phone ?”
    “Well, if she’s calling him on her work phone, that’s a tricky proposition. I’m not sure how I’d get into the lab to put a bug on that line. Simpler and more sensible to monitor her calls from home. That might tell us where to go next.”
    “I don’t like it.”
    “I understand,”