W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone Mystery)

in.
    “This is Big Rat. You know what to do.”
    I waited for the beep and said, “Hi, Mr. Rizzo. This is Kinsey Millhone. We spoke earlier. I did manage to find Ethan at his wife’s house and we talked a short time ago. Could you give me the name of the salon where Anna works? I think I better touch base with her as well. My number is . . .”
    I looked down at the phone. Usually there’s a circle in the dialing wheel, with the phone number of the motel, as well as the extension, which is a variation on the room number. I said, “Hang on a second . . .”
    I scanned the room. The furnishings included a desk and a chest of drawers on the far side of the room, but both were bare. I opened the bed table drawer. There was a phone book, but it seemed absurd to take the time to look up the Thrifty Lodge in the yellow pages. No packet of Thrifty Lodge matches, no scratch pad, no promotional pen sporting the pertinent address and phone number. What was I thinking? There was no way the Thrifty Lodge management would pay for advertising gimmicks. Housekeeping hadn’t even bothered to put a wrapper around the plastic bathroom “glass” in a nod to sanitation.
    “Skip the number. I’m at the Thrifty Lodge. I guess you’ll have to look it up. I’d appreciate a call.”
    I hung up. Now what?
    I thought I’d better hang around for a while in hopes that he’d call back. I opened my duffel and retrieved the Dick Francis novel I was reading. I stretched out on the bed and found my place. I reached over and turned on the bed table lamp, which had been equipped with a forty-watt bulb. I could barely see the page. I leaned sideways, holding the paperback elevated at an angle. This was ridiculous. If I couldn’t see to read now, what was I going to do at bedtime, which was my favorite time to curl up with a book?
    I turned off the light, licked my fingertips, and unscrewed the bulb. I slid my room key into my pocket and locked the door behind me with the lightbulb in hand. When I reached the office, the midtwenties desk clerk was on the phone. He wore jeans, a white polyester dress shirt, suspenders, and a bow tie. When he spotted me, he held up a finger, indicating he’d be with me as soon as he was done. From his half of the conversation, I was guessing the matter was personal, so I leaned my elbows on the counter and listened to every word. In fewer than twenty seconds, he’d managed to terminate the call.
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he turned to me.
    I held up the bulb. “Is there any way I can exchange this for a hundred-watt?”
    “Let me check.”
    He disappeared into the back office and emerged moments later with a replacement. “This is a sixty. It’s the best I can do. Management calculated we could save twenty-five dollars a year using forties.”
    “Oh wow. Good news.”
    I returned to my room and as I let myself in, I caught sight of the phone on the bedside table. The incoming-message light blinked its merry dot of red. I figured it was Big Rat with the information I needed, so I settled on the edge of the bed and made sure I had a pen and a fresh index card at the ready before I picked up the handset and pressed 0. A really nice automated lady told me that I had one message. “First message,” said she.
    It was Henry, sounding distressed. “Kinsey, it’s Henry. I’ve been trying to reach you, but I haven’t wanted to leave a message because I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily. I have bad news about your friend Felix. He’s in the hospital in critical condition. If you’ll give me a call, I’ll tell you as much as I know.”
    The call must have come in during the few minutes I was gone.
    I punched in the Santa Teresa area code and Henry’s number. The line was busy. I waited a minute and dialed again. Still busy. I schooled myself to be patient, giving him sufficient time to complete the call he was on. The third time I tried, the number rang twice and he picked up.
    “Henry, it’s me, Kinsey. What’s going on?”
    “Well, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’m sorry for the scare, but I thought I should let you know as soon as I could. Dandy showed up at noon. He was looking for you, of course, but I told him you were out of town. He said Pearl left a message for him at the shelter. She was calling from St. Terry’s emergency room. Felix had been picked up by ambulance and he was already on his way to surgery by the time Dandy got back to her.”
    “What