J is for Judgment (Kinsey Millhone 10)

“Go on. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Anyway, when it comes to Wendell, mostly I’m sitting around hoping he’ll show his face, which he doesn’t seem to be doing. I thought if we could sit down together, we might come up with some other possibilities. Could I impose on your time?”

“I’m retired now, Miss Millhone. Time is all I’ve got. Unfortunately, I’m tied up this afternoon. Tomorrow’s fine if that suits.”

“Looks good to me. What about lunch? Are you free by any chance?”

“That’d be doable,” he said. “Where are you?”

I gave him my office address.

He said, “I’m out here in Colgate, but I have an errand in town. Is there someplace we can meet?”

“Whatever’s convenient for you.”

He suggested a large coffee shop on upper State, not the best place for food, but I knew we wouldn’t need reservations for lunch. I made a note on my calendar when I hung up the phone. On a whim, I tried Renata’s number.

Two rings. She picked up.

Oh, shit, I thought. “May I speak to Mr. Huff?”

“He’s not here at the moment. Would you care to leave a message?”

“Is this Mrs. Huff?”

“Yes.”

I tried a smile. “Mrs. Huff, this is Patty Kravitz with Telemarketing Incorporated? How are you today?”

“Is this a sales pitch?”

“Absolutely not, Mrs. Huff. I can guarantee it. We’re doing market research. The company I work for is interested in your leisure pursuits and discretionary spending. These forms are filed by number, so your answers are completely anonymous. In return for your cooperation, we have a nice prize already set aside.”

“Oh, right. I bet.”

Jesus, this lady wasn’t very trusting. I said, “It will only take five minutes of your valuable time.” Then I kept my mouth shut and let her work it out on her end.

“All right, but make it brief, and if it turns out you’re selling something, I’m going to be annoyed.”

“I understand that. Now, Mrs. Huff, are you single, married, divorced, or widowed?” I picked up a pencil and started doodling on a legal pad, thinking ahead frantically. What did I really hope to learn from her?

“Married.”

“And do you own or rent your home?”

“What does this have to do with travel?”

“I’m getting to that. Is this a primary or vacation residence?”

Mollified. “Oh, I see. It’s primary.”

“And how many trips have you taken in the past six months? None, one to three, or more than three?”

“One to three.”

“Of the trips taken in the past six months, what percentage were business?”

“Look, would you just get to the point?”

“Fine. No problem. We’ll just skip some of these. Do you or your husband have plans to travel any time in the next few weeks?”

Dead silence.

I said, “Hello?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Actually, that brings us to the end of my questionnaire, Mrs. Huff,” I said, speaking rapidly and smoothly. “As a special thank you, we’d like to provide you, at no cost, two round-trip tickets to San Francisco and two nights, all expenses paid, at the Hyatt Hotel. Will your husband be home soon to accept the complimentary tickets? There’s absolutely no obligation on your part, but he will have to sign for them since the survey was in his name. Can I indicate to my supervisor when you might like to have us drop those off?”

“This is not going to work,” she said, her voice tinged with irritation. “We expect to be leaving town momentarily, as soon as …I’m not sure when he’ll be here and we’re not interested.” With a click, she disconnected.

Shit! I banged the phone down on my end. Where was the man, and what was he up to that might “momentarily” motivate his departure from Perdido? Nobody’s heard from him. At least, nobody I knew of. I couldn’t believe he’d talked to Carl Eckert, unless he’d done so within the last half day. As nearly as I could tell, he hadn’t been in touch with Dana or Brian. I wasn’t sure about Michael. I’d probably have to check that out.

What the hell was Wendell doing? Why would he come this close to his family without making contact? Of course, it was always possible he’d managed to talk to all three of them, and if that was the case, they were better liars than I was. Maybe it was time for the cops to put a tail on Renata Huff. And it might not hurt to run Wendell’s picture in the local papers. As long as he was running, we might as well sic the dogs on him. Meanwhile, come suppertime, I was going to have to make yet another trip to Perdido.