Wolf in the Shadows - Marcia Muller [27]
As Rae listened, her eyes got wider and she stopped bothering to lick the smears of chocolate from the corners of her mouth. “God, Shar,” she said when I finished, “don’t those RKI guys scare you?”
“I’m more scared of what may have happened to Hy, and what Renshaw will do if he finds him.”
“Can you even investigate a kidnapping, though? I mean isn’t it like a homicide? The cops can get you for messing around in a murder case. And RKI didn’t even report this.”
“Strangely enough, there’s nothing on the books that compels them to report it or prohibits me from investigating.” Frequently when I’m bored, I dip into the volumes in All Souls’s law library, my favorite being the one containing the California Penal Code. Over the years I’ve gleaned many fascinating facts—for example, that it’s illegal to trap or kill birds in public cemeteries. “A specific provision in the Penal Code’s section on kidnapping states that nothing prohibits a person from offering to rescue an individual who’s been kidnapped, either by force or by payment of ransom.”
Rae looked impressed. So far as I know, she hasn’t opened any book more weighty than a shop-and-fuck novel since graduating from Berkeley.
“Anyway,” I went on, “I’m going to Novato to talk with the kidnap victim’s wife in about an hour, and then I’m leaving for San Diego. And that’s where I need your help.”
“You mean you want me to cover for you here? You know I will. But if the partners find out …” She shrugged. “There’s that new rule against us taking outside employment. This could screw up your promotion.”
“I’m not sure that would be such a bad thing.”
“Why—”
“I don’t have time to talk about that now. I can’t even think about it. Will you cover?”
“Sure. But I think you’d better have a good excuse for not showing up at work, like sickness.”
“I don’t like to lie.”
“Neither do I, Shar, but we’re going to have to. I’m putting my job on the line, too, you know.”
“Then I can’t ask you to—”
“No, I don’t mind. This is important.” She paused, her freckled face tense with concentration. “Maybe a summer cold … No, a female complaint is better. The women’ll understand, and the men—for all their so-called sophistication—will be afraid to ask questions. But make sure I know where to reach you, and for God’s sake, leave your answering machine on.”
“Okay.” Then I thought of Ralph and Alice. “Can I also ask you to feed my cats?”
“Sure. Just don’t let Ted find out. The way he takes on over the care and feeding of those beasts, you’d think he was a doting uncle.”
“Well, he was responsible for me having them.” I tossed her my extra house key. “You can also have my rose.” Then I glanced at my watch. “We better get started going over our caseload. I’m caught up, and you should be able to handle what comes in. And when this is all over, I promise you’ll be handsomely rewarded.”
Rae grinned evilly. “Just bring me the head of Willie Whelan.”
* * *
I had made my travel arrangements and was about to leave the office when I heard a knock on the doorframe. Gloria Escobar, looking hesitant. “Do you have a minute?” she asked.
I checked my watch. Quarter to three, and I figured I’d need the extra fifteen minutes I’d allowed for the trip to Novato, in case traffic jammed on the Golden Gate or at the bottleneck at San Rafael. “Barely.”
“This won’t take long.” She came in and perched on the edge of the chaise longue, rearranging my jacket and bag carefully, then smoothing her gray gabardine skirt over her thighs. Gloria’s clothing was always understated, bordering on the drab; her only concession to style was her bright lipstick, nail polish, and smoky eye shadow; her only undisciplined feature was her irrepressible dark curls.
I waited, wondering if this was to be a rehash of the critical comments she’d made about me at the partners’ meeting.
She cleared her throat, more ill at ease than I’d ever seen her. “I want to apologize for my remarks yesterday.