W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)

Together we lifted Pearl’s feet and swung them into the car, slamming the door on her side. Felix came around to the driver’s side and squeezed into the back. I flung my shoulder bag in after him. I got behind the wheel, slammed the door shut, and released the emergency brake. I felt the car move slowly. I started the engine as the Mustang picked up speed and we continued rolling down the hill, gathering momentum.

I directed my comment to Felix by way of the rearview mirror. “Cool move. I didn’t know you carried pepper spray.”

He flashed me a metallic smile. “I don’t. I stole it from them.”

9

At the bottom of the hill I gunned it through the parking lot and took a squealing turn onto Milagro, only belatedly checking to make sure there wasn’t a cop car in range. I didn’t for a moment imagine the Boggart was hot on our tail, but I was shot through with adrenaline and couldn’t suppress the urge to flee. A block farther up on Milagro, I took my eyes off the road long enough to look at Pearl. “Why did you tear up the camp? What were you thinking?”

“They burned his books. They were using them as fuel—”

“So what? He’s dead. The books don’t mean anything to him. Who knows what they’ll do to get even with you.”

Pearl held up a hand. “Stop. I gotta get out.”

“Are you going to be sick?”

“No, I’m not going to be sick, you dumb shit. I need a smoke.”

Felix said, “Hey, me, too!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I snapped.

I searched for a stretch of curb that would allow me to ease out of the flow of traffic. In truth, I didn’t trust myself to drive at that moment. I was wired and needed time to compose myself. Milagro was a busy thoroughfare, and I felt distracted and out of sorts. I activated my left turn signal and took the side street that bordered the McDonald’s parking lot. The light had faded and the few trees on the grassy strip between the street and the sidewalk created a shadowy haven. I spotted a long gap between two parked vehicles and did a nifty job of parallel parking, which I notice is usually better done without too much thought.

I killed the engine and listened to the tick of hot metal while Pearl got out. Felix followed her out the passenger-side door. I emerged on my side and leaned against the door frame, legs extended behind me as though to loosen my hamstrings. I rested my cheek on my outstretched arms and waited for my heart to slow. Ten feet away, I could see Felix’s hands shake. Beads of sweat appeared on Pearl’s forehead in response to the unaccustomed physical exertion. Her eyes still watered from the capsicum and tears trickled down her cheeks. She sniffed and then leaned to one side and blew her nose through her fingers, which she wiped on her jeans. I don’t know why I expected anything more from her.

A quick look at my watch told me it was 7:10—too late to take them back to the shelter, which by now would be locked for the night. In theory, they would have been safe at Harbor House, but I knew it was the first place the Boggarts would check if they decided to retaliate.

Felix fumbled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

I said, “Why’d you bum a cigarette from her when you already had a pack?”

“She don’t mind.”

“The hell I don’t.”

Felix’s pack of cigarettes was smashed and the first two cigarettes he pulled out were broken in half. He tossed the first away.

“Gimme that,” Pearl said. She snatched the second cigarette, which was little more than a stub with strands of tobacco hanging out. He offered her a light and then extracted a third cigarette and lit it for himself. Almost simultaneously they inhaled, sucking smoke so far down into their lungs I thought they’d hyperventilate. I experienced a brief flash of what it felt like to light up in times of stress, but I don’t think I actually whimpered aloud.

“You two are nuts,” I said. “Cigarettes are expensive and they’re bad for you.”

Pearl scowled. “What’s it to you? Clearly, you never smoked a day in your life.”

“I did, too. I smoked for two years before I gave it up.”

“Then you ought to be more compassionate.”

“I’m not the warm fuzzy type. I thought that’s why we got along so well.”

She smiled, exposing her four bottom teeth with wide gaps between. “Lord help me. I think I’m getting attached to you.”

“God forbid.”

She took a final drag from her cigarette and crushed the butt underfoot. “Whoo! Better. Whyn’t we take a look at what we got here?”