Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [10]
“We’ll split up inside the store. See whether they’re shopping for groceries or picking up prescriptions. Same goes for anywhere else they end up.”
“Even if it’s a doctor’s office?”
“Yep.”
“And if they go both places?”
“We will, too.”
“You don’t think they’ll notice us following them?”
I glared at him. “How the fuck should I know?
You’re supposed to be the expert in this stealthy PI shit, Kev.”
He grunted.
Which pissed me off. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sick of trying to work around you, and the truth is, we shouldn’t have taken this goddamn case. I don’t give a crap what you tell Amery. Let her take the two hours we owe her in your bed.” I dug my cell phone out of my purse. Flipping it open, I scrolled through my short contacts list.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving. Martinez will send someone to pick me up and take me back to the office.”
Kevin grabbed my phone and snapped it shut.
“Hey, what the hell—”
“Look.” He pointed to the carport at the front entrance. “I think Luella just pulled up.”
31
The driver’s side door on a silver Cadillac
opened. A chunky woman climbed out, wearing a pink houndstooth checked coat, black slacks, her reddishbrown face visible beneath a rabbit fur trimmed hat. Our tour guide, Dee, walked an elderly man out and met the woman on the sidewalk. He wasn’t the crippled old-timer I’d described. Maybe this was someone else.
“That’s him,” Kevin said. “Vernon Sloane.”
“You sure? He looks pretty spry for an eightyfive-year-old guy.”
“Alzheimer’s is a mental defect, Julie, not physical. He’s exactly how Amery described him.”
I skipped the smart-ass retort. Vernon was feisty; he wouldn’t let Luella help him into the car. She skirted the back end and they were off. 32
Kevin put the Jeep in gear.
Luella putzed along little-old-lady-style; her speed never surpassed the posted legal limit. People like her caused traffic problems and gave people like me road rage. First stop: Boyd’s Liquor Mart on Mt. Rushmore Road. Well, well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Kevin parked by the Dumpster.
“Who’s going in? You? Or me?”
“You.” I rummaged in the backseat until I found his brown Dakine knit winter hat. “Put that on.”
“Anything else, bossy?”
“Yeah, get me a pack of cigarettes and a pint of Jack Daniels.” I tossed him a crumpled fifty.
“Martinez’s drinking habits wearing off on you?”
“No. The Jack is for Reva.”
His mouth dropped open. “In the short amount of time you spent together she told you her favorite whiskey? What? Are you two drinking buddies now?”
As I watched Luella and Vernon enter the package store, I said, “It’d be nice to have someone to drink with since Kim is pregnant.”
“Don’t you spend all your free time sucking down free booze in Martinez’s bars?”
“No.” I faced Kevin and fussed with his collar.
“That’s better. Go.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He slammed the door.
I lit up, considering how long I’d do my Eskimo imitation in the freezing cold. On a whim I dialed Martinez.
33
He answered on the second ring. “Everything okay, blondie?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because it’s rare for you to call me during the day.”
“You’re always busy.” Shit shit shit. This was exactly why I didn’t call him; he made me feel guilty when I did. “Is it a bad time?”
“Hang on.” A clunk followed a muffled thump. The line crackled. Background noises disappeared.
“Where are you?”
“On a stakeout. Where are you?”
“My office at Bare Assets.”
I flicked an ash out the window. “You alone?”
“I am now. Why?”
“I wondered if you wanna have phone sex.”
“With you?”
“No, with Kevin, Martinez. Jesus, yes with me.”
He paused. “Wells isn’t in the car with you.”
“Nope. Just little ol’ me, feeling horn-ibly naughty.”
“You’re just bored.”
“Pretty much.”
“I should be insulted.”
“You aren’t. You’re actually thinking about saying yes.”
Martinez laughed softly.
“So I’ll take a rain check on the phone sex if you promise me the real deal tonight.” I inhaled, holding the smoke in my lungs a good long time before I exhaled. He didn’t respond, but I heard him sigh. I could 34
almost see the