Metro Girl (Alex Barnaby 1)

We left Judey and Bill, and we walked the short distance to the elevator. The doors opened, we stepped in, and Hooker hit the lobby button.

“If you’re afraid of the elevator, big brave NASCAR Guy would be willing to hold you close and make you feel safe,” Hooker said.

“Thanks, but I’m too numb to be afraid.”

“Could you pretend?”

When we were kids Bill was always bringing stray animals into the house. Dogs, cats, birds with broken wings, baby bunnies. My parents didn’t have the heart to turn the strays away, but the rule was that the animals were only allowed in the yard and in Bill’s room. Of course, eventually the blind dog and the cat with half an ear chewed off found their way into the living room. The birds were healed and set free but refused to leave. The bunnies grew up and migrated throughout the house, eating the wires and gnawing on the baseboards. And we loved them all. The point to this is that Bill loves easily and immediately. And the rest of my family, me included, loves more slowly.

Against my better judgment, Hooker was growing on me like one of Bill’s adopted animals. The smart part of me was saying are you kidding? The soft squishy part of me that let the one-eared cat sleep on my chest all night long, almost smothering me for five years, was finding Hooker endearing. And the sex part of me was thinking the bakery theory was one of those male things I’d never fully understand. My way was to develop a craving for a particular pastry, to obsess about it, to dream about it, to desire it. And finally to lose control and buy it and eat it.

And now Hooker was looking tasty. Scary, hunh?

We took the elevator to the parking garage and found our way back to the Mini. Hooker and I had new cell phones. Mine rang just as I was about to buckle up.

“Barney,” my mother said. “Where are you? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine. I’m still in Miami.”

“Are you with Bill?”

“I just left him.”

“He never answers his phone. His message machine is filled. I can’t leave any more messages.”

“I’ll tell him to call you. Maybe tomorrow.”

“When are you coming home? Should I go over to your apartment and water your plants?”

“I don’t have any plants.”

“What do you mean you don’t have plants? Everybody has plants.”

“Mine are plastic.”

“I never noticed.”

I hung up and Hooker smiled at me. “Do you really have plastic plants?”

“So sue me, I’m not a gardener.”

My phone rang again. It was my boss.

“Family emergency,” I told her. “I left you a message on your voice mail. Yes, I know this is inconvenient. Actually, I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I think it’ll be soon.”

“Did that work out okay?” Hooker asked when I hung up.

“Yep. Everything’s great.” I was fired, but what the hell, I didn’t like the job anyway.

I had two more phone calls. One from my friend Lola. And the other from a woman who worked with me at the insurance company. I told both of them I was fine and I’d call them back.

Finally a call came in from Rosa. It was the call I’d been waiting for. I’d asked Rosa to do some research for me.

“I got it,” Rosa said. “I got a list of all the properties Salzar owns in Miami. Felicia helped me. She has a cousin who works in the tax office. We even got his girlfriend’s address.”

I disconnected and turned to Hooker. “Rosa’s got the list.”

Hooker found a parking space half a block from the cigar factory. We had sodas and burgers from a drive-thru, and we took a couple minutes to finish eating. Hooker’s cell phone rang. He looked at the readout and shut his phone off. He drank some soda and saw that I was watching him.