Lisa stole it, or Scholl-” The waitress brought fresh salsa and chips, and salads of greens, orange slices, and jicama. Both Jack and Paul watched her saunter away.
“I think the first he heard of Ali Peck was the night the Bronco was stolen,” Paul went on. “Cody Stinson told me he got a call. No reason for him to lie. So I think we do have somebody out there with the files and a phone. Could be Riesner got a call, too, just like he said. If he knows anything more that’s useful about this supposed phone call, we have to know it.” He attacked his salad. “We need to ask him.”
“What, and expect a straight answer?” Nina asked. “He lies just because he can. And, Paul, you can’t go to him. He’ll call out reinforcements the minute he sees your face.”
“Let me guess why,” Jack said, taking a tortilla chip from the bowl and loading on the salsa. “Paul’s famous composure.”
“This from a man who prides himself on drawing blood in a courtroom without the benefit of a weapon,” Paul said. “Need I say more? And while we’re at it, shall we discuss your cool with Riesner, Nina? That little pepper-spray episode?”
“Maybe a third party could convince him that it wouldn’t hurt him to help for once,” Jack said. “Like me.”
Paul and Nina looked at each other.
“You?” they said.
“I could explain that I represent you in the matter of the lost files. I’d make him see how he doesn’t want us thinking he had something to do with it.”
“Scholl had the best opportunity,” Nina said. “She found the Bronco. Maybe she stole the Bronco, discovered the files in there, did some damage, then took her time to let me know she had found my truck. And Lisa Cruz, well, she has a grudge against me, which was resurrected when Kevin hired me. I wouldn’t put anything past her. Wish I knew more about these people.”
“They’re on my To Do list, Nina,” Paul said. “Along with Riesner.”
“How far do you need to take this investigation?” Jack asked. “Maybe it’s a waste of time at this point. The cats are debagged and running wild already.”
“Know your enemy, Jack,” Paul said. “Nina’s got one, and I think she ought to know who it is. This might be the skirmish before the battle. She’s got to be prepared.”
“Sandy called a friend of hers at Riesner’s office to hear what she could hear,” Nina said. “She found out that the same night the files disappeared, Jeff Riesner hosted a family reunion at his house. At least seven relatives stayed over. His house was bursting at the seams. His secretary went over there and spent the evening serving hors d’oeuvres. I know, I know, that is by no means an airtight alibi. But for him to sneak away in the middle of the night with so many people around him-it just doesn’t sound right. Besides-auto theft?”
“Then why don’t I just ask him again?” Jack said. “It may be the only chance we have to find out who outed the girl, right?”
Paul said, “You don’t know this dude, Jack.”
“You’re the only one allowed to help Nina, is that it?” Jack asked.
Another shift in the weather, both Paul and Jack glowering.
“Give it a shot,” Nina said, worn out with her peacekeeping efforts. “I’ll have Sandy call you with the number.”
But the swift changes of atmosphere of the last few minutes seemed to have billowed up into a major storm.
“Jack, get over it.” Paul put his hand on Nina’s knee this time. “Deal with reality, meaning me, or get off the case. She doesn’t need you anyway. According to your own view, there is no case anyway. The clients are muddling through without their files. Maybe you should just head home while you can still drive under the DUI limit.”
Jack took a big slug of his second margarita. “Some friend,” he said. “Some freakin’ friend you are.”
“You left her! Have you forgotten?”
Nina waved her hand. “Hey, guys, remember me? The one who pays you both? How about we finish our talk, have a nice dinner with lots of ice water, and all of us hit the road. We’re tired and hungry and as a result we’re not at our best. So, how about we pack up our troubles and enjoy the meal?” Big hot plates of flautas and enchiladas and chiles rellenos had materialized in front of them. The aroma quickly softened their glares. They picked up their forks and dug in.
Nina took a bite, then put her fork down. She had lost her appetite. “Let’s start over. I think the issue here is, what about these loose ends? Am I out of the woods yet? Jack says I am. Paul seems less certain. And I, well, I’m going to chew my fingernails, not just because there are some details we don’t know, but because I got my clients and myself into this situation in the first place.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Paul said.
She waved that away. Of course she blamed herself.
She forged on, “Paul, thanks to you, we have something new to work on. We know that Cody Stinson says he got an anonymous phone call telling him about Brandy. If he did get that call, it was from someone motivated and cruel enough to place those two women in a potentially life-threatening situation. So who might that be? Mario didn’t steal the files. He was in jail. Cody didn’t steal the files, because at that time he had no idea the girls were witnesses.”
“Maybe he did,” Jack said.
“But-”
“Maybe he noticed the girls that night at the campground and decided he better check them out. Maybe he followed one of them to your office. Maybe he followed you home that night, seeing you put your briefcase in the truck. He’s about to snag the files and he thinks, let’s dirty the waters, I’ll take the truck, too.”
Nina popped a slice of orange into her mouth and considered this. “Maybe,” she said. “Paul, can you find out if Stinson has ever been arrested for auto theft or theft in general?”
“Sure will,” Paul said. “Then what?”
“Maybe we return to our normal impossible caseloads and pardon Nina for her terrible misdeeds for the time being?” Nina said. “The leads peter out at that point. The police aren’t going anywhere. Maybe nothing further will happen.”
“Cody claims he didn’t kill Phoebe,” Paul said. “Do we care if he’s telling the truth?”
“Trust me, they all say that,” Jack said.
“I’m not a rube, Jack. I’m telling you both, he left some real questions in my mind.”
“What do you recommend?” Nina said.
“I’ll pass on my concerns to Fred Cheney at the police department. Beyond that, Cody has his own lawyer. I’ll keep tabs. That’s about it.”
“Okay.”
“What about the sisters?” Jack said. “They had a bad scare. They could still file a complaint against you.”
“And Brandy’s fiance, Bruce Ford, was accosted by Stinson,” Nina said. “He’s a lawyer. It’s my fault Stinson did that. He was angry.”
“You know, I have a different feeling about lawyers since they became my sole clients,” Jack said. “They are deeply conservative. They want to avoid personal trouble. Ford didn’t get hurt. Would he waste a lot of his valuable time filing a complaint against you?”
“What about all those lawyers that flood the courts by filing trivial legal cases?” Paul asked. “You hear a lot about them.”
“We already know you have a low opinion of lawyers,” Jack said. “Maybe if you’d gone on to law school yourself you wouldn’t have that attitude. I told Nina where that jaundiced attitude comes from.”
Paul said, “You did, eh?” He fixed Jack with a stare. Nina looked back and forth.
“About time she knew, buddy.”
“Don’t call me buddy right now, McIntyre. I’m wishing you had never horned in. You’re useless. Are you gonna charge her six hundred bucks for this dinner?”
“You’d love it if she gave it up. Admit it.”
Paul said, “I sleep with one, I work for them, and I still talk to you, though I’m starting to wonder why. I have no chip. I got lucky and didn’t get in. It’s a lousy profession. It’s a guaranteed heart attack by age fifty. So I will be blunt and I will say that if Nina gets drummed out of the corps, she may end up happier and healthier.” He wiped tomato sauce off his lips with his napkin, not looking at Nina.
“You don’t care if I get disbarred?” Nina said, floored. “Don’t you know how much I love-” She choked up. “Don’t you understand that it’s everything to me?”
“Anyway, this is the last supper. You’re terminated, McIntyre.” Paul still wouldn’t look at her.
“My job is never over until every single person involved in the file theft is dead of old age,” Jack said, “whereas you ought to hit the road, head home to your dying business, and give Nina a break from all this. I’m advising Nina of that. Nina, I want you to go home, take in a movie or something. Rest, babe. I think you squeaked through.”
“Thanks,” Nina said. She smiled and Jack smiled back at her.
“The next time I take you to dinner we won’t even talk law,” he said.
“No reason for a next time, then,” Paul said.
Nina paid the bill, the only decision that evening Paul and Jack didn’t dispute.
19
P AUL KISSED NINA GOOD-BYE and gave Jack the finger as he climbed back into his Mustang for the long drive back to Carmel. He drove fast to the highway, started to take a right at the exit to go west, then changed his mind and swerved into the left lane, making a left instead.
He headed east, driving all the way back to South Lake Tahoe thinking he might catch a glimpse of Nina’s Bronco, but he never did. The night was beautiful, and the drive up and down the mountains into the wavery blue, black, silvery town stirred him, as it always did. In Meyers, he cut through on the Trail to avoid traffic, then booked himself back into a room at Caesars with the flirt at the front desk, who had no rooms unreserved for the weekend but found one anyway.
He didn’t call Nina. He had work to do the next morning, and he didn’t want any discussion or argument about how he would do it. He wanted to know who stole her files. Someone was after her, and he wanted to know who. He wanted to know whatever there was to know.
Sunday morning, showered, shaved, and fed, Paul hit the Yellow Pages. Lisa Cruz was listed, which he took as a good sign. Pioneer Trail led straight behind the casinos a mile or so to Woodbine Road. He took a right, checked out the street, then pulled back onto the Trail and parked out of sight around the corner. Pulling a clipboard with a pencil tied to it from the floor, he got out of the car and locked it.
Lisa Cruz lived a few houses down from Pioneer Trail in a neat cabin with a porch trimmed in blue. He knocked on the door of the house next to her cabin, then on the door beyond her cabin, then up and down the block, talking with her neighbors. He saw no sign of Lisa or her kids.
“I’m from the city,” he said, waving his clipboard officiously and making meaningless check marks when a friendly door opened here and there. “We’re going to be doing some road work on Pioneer Trail next week and just wanted to let you folks know in advance so you won’t be too inconvenienced.” Actually, this might not even be a lie. Road work on the Trail happened during the dry weather in preparation for winter every year. He was probably doing them all a favor, reminding them. “Work on the potholes and drainage. You should be getting a notice in the mail about this. ’Course, you know how the city is about this stuff. Schedules change, so don’t bet the ranch on it.” He scratched his head and shared a laugh. Then he squeezed out any gossip worth squeezing.
After speaking with four people on that block who seemed to know what they were talking about, and two with strong feelings in the various matters, he walked around the corner to Lisa’s
