Q is for Quarry (Kinsey Millhone 17) - Page 34

It was just after 5:00, and Con was doubtless at CC’s, knocking back Happy Hour drinks on a two-for-one deal. For my sake, I hoped he hadn’t been at it long. I spotted his car as soon as I pulled up in front, but the area was otherwise deserted. Across the street at the bird refuge, two women in sweats were just starting a walk, chatting with animation. Closer to the water, a mother looked on placidly as her five-year-old child fed day-old bread to the gulls under a sign that read: PLEASE DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS.

I went into CC’s, pausing in the doorway to let my eyes adjust. A plank of daylight had fallen in the open door, enhancing the contrast between CC’s and the outside world. The place was dark. There was no one in the front room except the bartender and a waitress engaged in intimate conversation. Stacey and Dolan were seated in a booth in the rear. Stacey got up when I appeared. He was looking better today. I said, “Hi. Am I late?”

“Not at all,” Dolan said. Both had glasses in front of them. Dolan’s contained whiskey dark enough to pass for iced tea. Stacey’s was empty except for the ice cubes and a wad of freshly squeezed lime. Dolan hauled himself to his feet just as Stacey sat down. “What can I get you?”

“Water’s fine for now. I may switch later.”

“I’ll take another Tanqueray and tonic.”

Dolan frowned. “You just had one. I thought the doc didn’t want you mixing meds with booze.”

“Or else what, I drop dead? Don’t worry. I’ll take full responsibility. I’d be doing myself a favor.”

Dolan gestured impatiently and then moved off to the bar. I slid into the booth and put my shoulder bag on the seat beside me.

He said, “How’d your day go?”

“So-so. I’ll tell you about it as soon as he gets back.”

Stacey reached into his vest pocket and removed a pipe and a tobacco pouch, then filled the bowl. He fished around in another pocket for a pipe pick and tamped down the tobacco before he took out a wooden kitchen match and slid the head along the underside of the table. I waited while he puffed at the pipe. The smoke was sweet-smelling, like a meadow full of dried hay.

I said, “You’re as bad as he is.”

Stacey smiled. “On the other hand, suppose I only have a few months left? Why deny myself? It’s all in your perspective.”

“I guess it is.”

We engaged in idle chitchat until Dolan returned, bearing a tray with my water and two fresh drinks for them. He’d added napkins, a bowl of popcorn, and a tumbler of nuts.

“Look at this guy, buying dinner for us,” Stacey said.

“Hey, I got class. More than I can say for you.”

The air was cool and free of cigarette smoke, which Dolan corrected for as soon as he sat down. I didn’t bother to complain. Stacey’s pipe tobacco and Dolan’s cigarette smoke masked the faint whiff of noxious gases from the excavation site outside. Dolan helped himself to a handful of nuts, popping them in his mouth one by one while he looked at me. “What’d you get?”

“You’re not going to like it.” I went on with a summary of my travels, starting with Cloris Bargo and the lie she’d told.

Stacey said, “I talked to her twice myself and she never said a word about that.”

“It’s my charm and finesse.”

“Well, shit. I didn’t realize she was married to Joe Mandel. He worked with us on this.”

“I know. I remembered the name.”

Dolan said, “I can’t believe she was blowing smoke up our skirts. She actually admitted that?”

“Well, yeah. She said at the time she couldn’t see the harm.”

Stacey said, “Let’s leave that one alone. No sense butting into their business. I tell you what we might do though is ask Joe if he could locate Jane Doe’s effects for us. It’d be good to take a look. Might spark an idea. I’ll make a call and clear it with the sheriff. Don’t think he’d object, but you never know about these things.” He made a note to himself and turned back to me. “What else?”

“After I left her, I drove on up to Lompoc, stopping off at Gull Cove, which is closed, by the way.” I laid out my conversation with Roxanne Faught, what she’d said, and where the story she’d told me varied from what we knew. I gave them copies of the news clippings to demonstrate my point. “I think she lifted the details from these, which means we can’t rely on her. I believe she encountered someone, but it wasn’t necessarily our Jane Doe.”

“Too bad. It sounds like a dead end,” Dolan said.

Tags: Sue Grafton Kinsey Millhone Thriller
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