Flamethrower - Maggie Estep [47]
“I was wondering if you’d seen her lately and if she said anything to you. I’m a friend of her husband’s. She’s missing.”
“Oh,” the guy said, softening. “You want to come in?”
Ruby had the feeling the guy might eat her for dinner. But maybe he knew something. “Sure, thanks,” she said.
The apartment was similar to Jody’s, though the ceilings weren’t quite as high and the many windows were covered in heavy curtains. An enormous computer monitor sat on top of a mahogany desk. The screen was filled with dense, tiny strings of text.
“Code,” the guy said, noticing that Ruby was looking. “I’m a programmer. Name’s Paul, by the way.”
Ruby told him her name and suddenly felt tongue-tied. Paul was standing a bit too close to her, making her nervous.
“When was the last time you saw Jody?” she asked.
“Sit down,” Paul said, motioning to a dark green couch.
Ruby sat.
“About a week ago,” Paul said. He was still standing and had folded his arms over his chest. He looked like a prosecutor about to go in for the kill.
“Saw her leaving the building when I was coming home. She was with some guy. Not the husband. Young guy. You don’t expect me to believe you’re a cop do you?”
“No,” Ruby shook her head, “just a friend. Did Jody say anything when you saw her?”
“‘Good morning’ maybe. Some pleasantry like that. It’s not like we were in the habit of having heart to hearts.”
“What did the young guy look like?”
Paul frowned. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe mid-twenties. Brown hair. Skinny. Shorter than me. The hair was kind of long. All one length.”
Now it was Ruby’s turn to frown. The description seemed familiar somehow. Even though she couldn’t think of anyone fitting it.
“How did she act toward the guy?”
“I don’t know. The guy was carrying stuff. Maybe suitcases. Yeah, that’s right.” Paul’s face became animated. “I remember I wondered if he was some sort of hired help or if she was running off with him. I haven’t seen the husband in a while.”
“They’re separated,” Ruby said.
“Too bad,” Paul said, though he didn’t seem worked up about it. “How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Are you separated?”
“What?”
“I mean are you single?”
“No, I’m not single,” Ruby said more severely than she’d intended.
“No offense,” Paul said. “Had to take a shot.” He grinned.
“No offense taken,” Ruby said. “And thanks for your help.” She rose from the couch and made a beeline for the door.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Paul said.
“No, it’s fine. I just have to go.” She looked up at him. He was cute in a towering-ogre sort of way.
“Thanks for your help, Paul.”
“Anytime,” he said.
Ruby walked into the hall and down the steps two at a time. She got into her car and immediately lit a cigarette. It made her feel worse. She turned the radio on and played with the dial until she hit pay dirt, an Elliott Smith song, “Pictures of Me,” on one of the college stations. Ruby loved the song, even though listening to Elliott Smith always made her angry at the guy for killing himself. When the song ended, Ruby moved the dial over to WKCR Beethoven’s cheerful, pathologically optimistic Sixth. Always a pleasure.
Ruby took her phone out of her pocket to make sure no one had called. No one had. Ruby called her bank’s automated phone number, punched in her account number, and discovered that Tobias had kept his word. Ruby’s balance was up by a thousand bucks.
Ruby nosed the car into traffic. She was putting Tobias and Jody on hold and going to Belmont to try talking to Ed again. She had to do it.
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Ruby pulled her car into a spot at the end of Ed’s shed row. She popped a Fireball in her mouth and got out of the car.
Nicky the groom was leading Bend Sinister, an older gray gelding, toward his stall. Nicky nodded at Ruby.
“Seen Ed?” she asked.
“Right there.” Nicky pointed to Juan the Bullet’s stall just as Ed emerged from it.
At first, Ed reacted naturally: He smiled. Then the smile froze, and he looked uncomfortable.
Ruby had thought words would come easily. Or that maybe that she wouldn’t need