X (Kinsey Millhone 24)

“How did that come to pass? Did you call him or did he call you?”

“I confess I called him. Ordinarily, I’d keep my nose out of it. His relationship with Teddy is his to deal with, but given their rancorous history, I thought he should be aware of that business in Beverly Hills. If she’s cooking up trouble for him, he should be forewarned. I gave him the broad strokes and he said he’d prefer hearing the story from you.”

“I’d have to think about that. I’m not opposed to lousing up Teddy’s life, but I don’t want to get caught in the middle of their hostilities. From what I’ve heard, the two have been battling for years and this is just more of the same,” I said.

“That about sums it up.”

“What have you told him? Does he know about the marked bills?”

“I gave him a quick sketch of the situation. I was reluctant to brief him on an ongoing investigation, but I didn’t think I had much choice. I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to lie if he asked. I told him you did a job for her and that’s how the two bills came to our attention.”

“Speaking of which, I’m still out a hundred bucks on that score.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about that.”

“So what does Ari want from me?”

“He understands it was your detective work that put Teddy in touch with Satterfield. He’d like to hear your assessment.”

“My assessment? I met the woman once and everything she told me was a lie. I know what I saw, but I can’t begin to guess what she’s up to. Why doesn’t he ask her?”

“Asking is usually a bad move where Teddy’s concerned. If she’s scamming him, she’s not going to ’fess up.”

“I’ll talk to him. Once. And let’s hope that’s the end of it.”

“Thanks. I owe you one. I’ll get back to you.”

30

Tuesday morning, as I was leaving the studio, I found Henry poised on my doorstep, his hand raised as though to knock. I could see his station wagon idling in the driveway. Edna was standing on the far side wearing a black winter coat and a jaunty red knit hat, her pocketbook clasped in front of her like a brown bag lunch.

Henry said, “I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried you’d be gone by now.”

“Late start this morning. Where are you off to?”

“Edna has a dentist’s appointment. I’m tied up with my accountant this afternoon, but in the meantime, I volunteered to ferry her to and from. Someone was supposed to stay with Joseph, but the woman called just now and said she was coming down with a cold and didn’t think she should expose either one of them. Could you keep an eye on him?”

I flicked a look at Edna, whose interest in our conversation was sufficient to persuade me the plan was hers. No one had agreed to “mind” Joseph. Edna was making that up. She’d left arrangements until the last minute, counting on Henry to press me into service. She knew for a fact I wouldn’t have stepped in on her account. She also knew I couldn’t refuse Henry’s asking me to do anything. We exchanged a look. A sly smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

“My alarm system goes in today and I have to be there. How long will this take?”

“An hour and a half. Mr. McClaskey’s due shortly to inspect for leaks, so I’d appreciate your leaving your studio unlocked.”

“I can do that.”

Next thing I knew, Henry was pulling out of the drive with Edna seated placidly beside him and I had no choice but to trot next door as agreed. I knocked twice as a courtesy, then opened the door a crack and put my head in. With Joseph in a wheelchair, it seemed inconsiderate to make him push himself through the house to let me in.

“Hello?” I stepped into the living room and closed the door behind me. “Mr. Shallenbarger?”

A massive television set dominated one end of the living room, currently tuned to a vintage Western filled with cowboys who looked like they were wearing lipstick. Sound thundered—blazing guns and horses’ hooves. I could hear water running in the next room.

I raised my voice. “Mr. Shallenbarger? It’s Kinsey from next door.”

“In here,” he called.

This was the first time I’d been in the house. The Adelsons owned the property long before I moved into Henry’s studio. For years, Dale Adelson taught English literature at UCST. The previous summer, he’d taken a job at the University of Virginia in Richmond. The move had delighted the couple because her family lived in the area and they looked forward to the proximity. Meanwhile, the house had been on the market and sitting empty until the Shallenbargers bought it and moved in.