Death By The Riverside Part 6

"But I work for them." I decided it was best to be honest with her.

"Prove it."

"Tomorrow, at lunch, come with me and I'll introduce you to my contact." I wasn't sure Ranson would approve of that, but I was sure she wanted to know what was in that locked drawer.

"I can't. I've got to go to the bakery and get something for the party after Patrick's show." I gave her my there-you-have-it look and shrugged my shoulders. "I can't believe this," she continued. "Drug smuggling and murders are something from T.V. It doesn't happen in my life. I'm sorry, I can't help you." She shook her head.

"Not real? Ever seen a junkie?"

"Well...yes, but..."

"Where do you think they get their dope? Does the stork bring it?"

"No...still..."

"How old is Patrick? And your other kid?"

"What? He's eleven. Cissy's nine."

"Do you worry about them?"

"Of course, I worry."

"About doing drugs?"

"No, I hope I've taught them better than that." I looked at her, not believing that no. "Sometimes," she admitted. "You can't live today and not worry...I still don't know."

But she was wavering. I decided to try a little logic.

"Look, there's a locked file drawer that..."

"None of them are locked," she broke in. "I have access to them all."

"At the end, where you found me. The bottom one under Z."

"But that's not used."

"So why is it locked?" She looked puzzled, searching for an innocuous reason to explain the drawer being locked.

She finally replied, "I don't know. Are you sure it's locked and not just stuck?"

* 45 *

"Positive."

"That's strange," she said, more to herself than to me. "I can't think what might be in it."

"There's one way to find out. Let's look."

"How? It's locked."

"File cabinet drawers are very easy to pick, if you know how."

She thought about this for a while before she said, "All right. But I have to be there to make sure that's all you do."

"If you insist. And if we find what I think we may find, I'll let you go with me to the police. If not, we'll probably find out what Milo's taste in p.o.r.n is." Milo was Barbara's boss. And possibly Mr. Big.

"You think?" She laughed. Barbara had a deep hearty laugh. I liked this woman. I was much happier making her laugh than making her scared. "Now, that would be worth all this," she added.

"Sorry," I said, thinking of the bruises that I must have given her.

"I don't really like tackling people in the dark."

"Oh, I didn't even mean that. I just meant my two years on this job. Milo can be a real pain in the neck." She signaled the waiter for another round. "So what do you think he's into?" she continued.

"Kinky, very kinky."

"I almost hope it is p.o.r.n. I'll get my thrill of the...year," she said in that slightly disparaging voice used by women who don't think they're quite pretty enough.

"Of the year? I don't believe that." I didn't. Women with the kind of eyes Barbara Selby had should have no problem with being unwillingly celibate.

"Believe it. It's true." The waiter brought us our drinks. "I'm on the wrong side of forty, size fourteen, and I've got two kids. Men may tell you they're interested in your mind, but only if you've got a body like yours to go with it." There was no bitterness in her voice, just a shrug and acceptance. Barbara struck me as one of those people who get on with life as best they can, no matter what it throws at them.

"But you have beautiful eyes," I blurted out, "like a horse that knows so much more than the rider she's stuck with. That's a compliment, although it may not sound like one. Brown and so deep you could fall into them." That was a line Danny had used on me that summer we had been lovers. I stole it because it said what I meant better than I could.

She laughed an embarra.s.sed laugh, like I had that summer. "Thank * 46 *

you. Give an old lady some vicarious thrills. Tell me about all the men you have panting after you."

"Me?" I was too tall, too dark, and had hair that went in every direction but fas.h.i.+onable. I had always been left on the sidelines at school dances. Aunt Greta thinks I became a lesbian because there was no one to dance with me in high school.

"Yes, you. Now that you've embarra.s.sed me about my dirt brown eyes, I need something to embarra.s.s you about. You must have a boyfriend."

"No."

"In between?"

"Sort of." The devil and the deep blue sea.

"So tell me the details of your last affair. The hot gossip among my friends concerns Little League coaches and PTA presidents. Not together." I sat still. "I'm sorry," she said. "Am I mucking about in something that you're not interested in taking lightly?" She looked very concerned, mistaking my silence for a broken heart. "Why did he leave you?" she asked kindly. "Or should we just not talk about it?"

It was too much. I had to burst out laughing. I was remembering why he had left me. It was back in sixth grade. This only caused Barbara to look more concerned. Maybe I had gone crazy.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked, controlling myself.

"Yes."

"All right. I was too tall. Tommy Jerod had asked me to go steady with him when school began. But when we showed up on the first day, I had grown five inches and he hadn't. He told me I was too tall."

"When was this?" She was beginning to catch on.

"Sixth grade."

"Oh." There was a pause. "I doubt you're a nun. What does that leave?"

"Want to find out?" I didn't think she did, but I didn't think a proposition would do Barbara's ego any harm.

She looked at me over her sliding gla.s.ses, gave a dry chuckle, then said, "I'm at the age that if I thought you might be serious, I might take you up on it."

"If I thought you might take me up on it, I could get serious," I replied.

"Well, this has certainly been an interesting evening," she said, * 47 *

backing off a little. The next step would have been yes or no. I wasn't sure either of us was ready for that.

"You're a brave person, Ms. Selby. Most women would have called in the Marine Corps by now."

"Why?" She looked genuinely puzzled.

"For protection against deviant, communistic, secular, humanist perverts, such as myself."

She laughed at that. "So I'm supposed to be shocked? Is that what you wanted?"

"No," I replied. "I would get along much better if no one was shocked at me being who I am." She nodded agreement. I continued, "I'm even so bold to think that I can tell another woman, even if she's straight and has two kids, that I think she's very attractive." She finished her wine and started to say something, but I broke in. "And now you're going to say, 'thanks, but I've got to be moving along.' And that's all right. I've had a good time tonight."

"Being a proper Southern woman and all, I suppose I shouldn't admit it, but so have I. An affair with a good-looking woman fifteen years younger than I am sounds like a wonderful adventure. I'd much rather turn it down than not have it offered." She took a final sip of her wine. "And now I've got to be getting back to my kids."

We paid the check and went out into the chilly night.

"I'm really sorry about tackling you," I said. "I hope I didn't leave too many bruises."

"I'll survive. Besides, a bruise or two tomorrow will mean that this really happened. I'll see you then."

"Good night." And we parted. I watched her disappear around a corner, then I headed off. I looked at my watch. It was only eight-thirty.

The evening was still quite young. I decided to hit I Know You Don't Care, an upscale lesbian bar in this part of town. Since I had on a skirt and pumps (also a s.h.i.+rt, underwear, and the rest), they might let me in.

I got a drink and settled in, leaning against the wall next to yet another hanging plant. If there's ever a revolution, I want to be on the green side. This was a good place to watch the action. Or lack of it. The bar was fairly full, but the couple next to me was discussing mutual funds and I overheard s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation about the condo market.

Perhaps I could find some lovely lesbian to impress with the $13.05 in my checking account and my method of playing the stock market. I left * 48 *

it alone, hoping that it would leave me alone. I didn't see any interesting women. In a bar full of women, I couldn't find one that interested me.

I was slipping. I had another drink and decided it was time to go home and finish Pride and Prejudice and maybe manage a fantasy or two about women with deep brown eyes.

* 49 *

CHAPTER 8.

The morning was one of those rare clear cool days. I found myself whistling on the way to work. A teenage boy even asked me what the tune was. He liked it and wanted to know if he might find it at his local record store. I said yes, they might have Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" and to ask for the Ninth Symphony. He thanked me, smiled, and we parted. There's hope for the younger generation yet.

Even a morning of slogging through boring secretarial routines didn't change my mood. I only saw Barbara in pa.s.sing. She started my day by dumping a load of stuff on my desk and asking if I could get it done as soon as possible. I said yes and asked a few questions about it.

All very professional. Then she winked at me and disappeared. It didn't hurt my high spirits to have those brown eyes winking at me.

I didn't see her again until after lunch. We ran into each other in the bathroom.

"They're letting us go early today," she said as we were was.h.i.+ng our hands together. "Due to the Super Bowl this weekend. Long lines for beer, I guess. I've scheduled you to work next week, so we can do what we planned," she finished.

"Why not today when everyone's gone?" I asked, leaving the water running to cover our voices, just in case anyone was loitering outside.

"Because I think it's only the staff that's leaving early," she answered.

"I see." No, it would not be a good idea for us to snoop around with Milo and his cronies on the premises. Someone else entered and we had to end our conversation.

* 50 *

Barbara came by about an hour later and told us to go on home.

n.o.body disagreed. As I was getting my stuff together, I noticed several men entering the front door. Some of them I had seen before, going into the locked left door. Others I had seen only as pictures in Sergeant Ranson's apartment. They all had that look about them, dressed very well, but in a manner that wasn't the standard corporate look. Too much gold and colors that were a little too bold. They dressed to please themselves. All except the young guy I had seen before. He still looked rumpled and out of place. Yet he was obviously here without a gun pointed at his head. Something about him said fallen accountant. Again I wondered what his story was.

I got to talk to Barbara just long enough to wish her luck at Patrick's play. I left open the meaning of luck at a seventh-grader's school play.

She laughed and smiled and was gone until Monday. This left me with a long Friday evening and a longer still Sat.u.r.day and Sunday with nothing wonderfully enticing to do.

It was such a perfect day, I couldn't face the idea of going home.

So I decided to head to Audubon Park, skirt, heels, and all. People were out strolling around. It was the end of January, everyone had been grinding since New Year, and our next big holiday, Mardi Gras, was a long way off. The city was coming up from the winter doldrums for a collective gulp of fresh air.

I realized that I was humming "Fall" from Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

I decided to tone down since I was walking toward one of the fountains and there were more people about. There were three boys playing with something in the water, probably a boat. I guessed they were from some parochial school since they all wore gray pants and white s.h.i.+rts, with blue blazers discarded off to one side. There were a number of old men and women scattered around on the benches. Off to the left there were two people engrossed in a chess game. I smiled when I realized that they were both women.

Then I heard a voice off through some trees to my right say, "Hey, stop it. You'll drown that kitten." It was aimed at the boys. And I was now close enough to hear a frantic "mew." I stalked up behind them, saw that there was a kitten in the fountain and that they wouldn't let it climb out. I grabbed the boy nearest to me by the belt and upended him into the water. The other two started to run away. I got one by the belt and the other by his collar. He got away but left me with part of * 51 *

his s.h.i.+rt. I tossed the second boy into the water and reached down and scooped up the kitten. It was wet and s.h.i.+vering. I used one of the blue blazers to dry it off.

"Shall I or do you want to?" said the voice that I had first heard.

I looked up from the kitten. It was Cordelia; she had caught the third boy.