Wolf in the Shadows - Marcia Muller [35]
“So something went wrong. His co-conspirators turned on him.”
“That doesn’t explain Ripinsky being missing. Or the L.C. not being drawn on.”
“I tell you Ripinsky’s got it and is holding off, figuring we’ll eventually ease up on our surveillance and he can slip it through.”
“You really think he’s that stupid?”
Renshaw folded his arms across his chest and stared up at the trees for a moment. “If I look at it logically, no, but … You strike me as someone who works on instinct. Your impressions of the people you’re dealing with meld with the facts you’re presented. Sometimes your conclusions aren’t strictly logical, but they feel right. And nine times out of ten they turn out to be right.”
“And the tenth time they’re wrong because you’ve shaped them to fit what you want to believe.”
“Playing devil’s advocate, are we? Well, this is not the tenth time. Mourning’s dead, Ripinsky’s got the L.C., and you’re going to find him for me.”
So much for instinct, I thought.
Renshaw asked, “When did you say you plan to fly down to San Diego?”
“I’ve got a reservation on USAir’s eight o’clock flight. If I don’t make it, there’s another every hour.”
“Well, I’ll fax you a copy of the L.C. in time so you get it when you check into the Bali Kai. You renting a car down there?”
“Avis.”
“Have a safe flight. Success.” He gave me a mock-military salute and went back to the house.
As I started the MG I smiled wryly. God, Renshaw could be transparent. He didn’t fully trust me, and I was willing to bet that he was on the phone right now, arranging for surveillance on me all the way from my house to San Diego’s Hotel Circle.
Well, that was okay. When I wanted to shake them, I knew how to do it.
* * *
I was packing my weekend bag when the doorbell rang. At first I ignored it, but when it rang again I realized it was obvious I was home because my car sat in the driveway. Dammit, I thought, I’ll never make my flight at this rate! Then I went to answer it.
Mike Tobias, clutching a fistful of pink carnations. Now, what on earth? Surely Rae hadn’t already begun to spread the rumor I’d come down sick.
“A present,” Mike said, “to make up for my remarks at the meeting yesterday.” He thrust the flowers into my hands.
First Gloria, now him. Part of the same scheme that had brought her to my office earlier, or a contingency plan because she had failed to win me over? Who would they decide to send next? Not Hank—he couldn’t fool me, and they knew it. Larry, to soothe me with herbal tea? Pam, to enlist me in the name of sisterhood? Why not summon Jack Stuart back from whatever wilderness he’d fled to to lick his wounds? Surely he was carrying around enough psychic pain to make my heart bleed.
I didn’t have time to waste on this nonsense, though, so I decided to play into Mike’s scenario and get rid of him. “Mike, thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did. I treated you shabbily. Please say you’ll accept the promotion; All Souls wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Gloria’s failure notwithstanding, they were holding to the take-it-or-leave-it policy. “As I told you all at the partners’ meeting, I’ll consider the offer very seriously.” It was obvious he was waiting for an invitation to come inside, so I added, “Look, we’ll talk more, but right now I’ve got somebody …” and motioned at the hall behind me.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening. Anyway, you keep thinking on it.”
“I will, Mike. And thanks again for the flowers.”
He nodded and went down the steps, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his 49ers jacket.
I took the carnations to the kitchen and put them in a vase, taped a note to it telling Rae to take them home and enjoy them. Then I hurried to the bedroom and finished packing my bag and a big oversized purse that I seldom used. It was seven-oh-seven. Maybe, just maybe, I’d make my eight o’clock flight.
* * *
The flight was crowded, and my bag didn’t want to go into the overhead bin. Finally I squeezed it between two others that were well over the regulation size