R is for Ricochet (Kinsey Millhone 18)

She rested her head against the back of the seat. "He's a love. He deserves a lot better than me."

"May I ask how old you are?"

"Thirty-two."

"No offense, but you look about twelve. How old was your dad when you were born?"

"Fifty-six. My mother was twenty-one. There's a match made in heaven. No telling what her deal was. She dropped me like a litter of kittens and hit the road."

"Does she keep in touch?"

"Nope. I saw her once, when I was eight. We spent one day together – well, half a day. She took me to Ludlow Beach and watched me splash in the waves until my lips turned blue. We had lunch at that snack stand, you know the one near High Ridge Road?"

"Know it well."

"I had a milk shake and ate fried clams, which I haven't eaten since. I must have been hyper. I remember my stomach was full of butterflies from the minute I woke up, knowing she'd be there. We were on our way to the zoo when I got sick in the car and she ended up taking me home."

"What'd she want?"

"Who knows? Whatever it was, she hasn't wanted it since. Pop's been great, though. I'm lucky in that regard."

"He feels guilty about you."

She turned and looked at me. "How come? None of this is his fault."

"He thinks he neglected you when you were young."

"Oh. Well, he did, but what's that got to do with it? He made his choices and I made mine."

"Yeah, but generally speaking, it's better to avoid the ones that are going to land you in jail."

She smiled. "You didn't know me back then. I was either drunk or stoned and sometimes both."

"How'd you hold down a job?"

"I saved the drinking for nights and weekends. I smoked dope before and after work. I never did the hard stuff – heroin, crack, or speed. Those can really mess you up bad."

"Didn't anyone ever notice you were stoned?"

"My boss."

"How'd you manage to take the money? Seems like that would necessitate a clear head."

"Trust me, I was always clear about some things. Have you ever been in jail?"

"I did an overnight once," I said, making it sound like an outing with my Girl Scout troop.

"For what?"

"Assaulting a cop and resisting arrest."

She laughed. "Wow. Who'da thunk? You look like a real button-down type. I'll bet you cross the street with the light and never fudge the numbers on your tax return."

"Well, true. Is that bad?"

"No, it's not bad. It's just boring," she said. "Don't you ever want to cut loose? Take a risk and maybe blow yourself through the roof?"

"I like my life as it is."

"What a drag. I'd go nuts."

"What makes me nuts is being out of control."

"So what do you do for laughs?"

"I don't know… I read a lot and I jog."

She looked at me, waiting for the punch line. "That's it? You read a lot and you jog?"

I laughed. "It does sound pathetic when you think of it."

"Where do you hang out?"

"I don't do any 'hanging out' as such, but if I want dinner or a glass of wine, I usually go to a tavern in my neighborhood called Rosie's. The owner's a mama bear, which means I can eat without being hassled by guys on the make."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"Not so's you'd notice," I said, slipping into the vernacular. Better not to let her venture too far down that path. I glanced over at her. "If you don't mind my asking, have you been in trouble before?"

She turned to look out the passenger-side window. "Depends on your point of reference. I went through drug rehab twice. I did six months in county jail on a bad-check charge. By the time I got out, my finances were in the shitter so I declared bankruptcy. Here's the weird part. Once I filed? I got a ton of credit card offers in the mail and all of them were preapproved. How could I resist? Of course, I ran those up, too. Thirty thousand bucks' worth before the gates clanged shut."

"Thirty thousand for what?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. Gambling, drugs. I blew a bunch at the track and then went to Reno where I played the slots. I sat in on some high-stakes poker, but the cards were running cold. Not that I'd quit because of that. I figured I could only lose so many times before the game turned around and started working my way. Unfortunately, I never reached that point. Next thing you know, I was broke and living on the streets. That was 1982. Pop moved me into his house and then he cleaned up my debts. What about your vices? You must have one!" "I drink wine and the occasional martini. I used to smoke cigarettes, but then I gave that up."