PART FOUR
29
O N WEDNESDAY MORNING, NINA WAS EATING her breakfast when her father came to the door. Paul had just gotten up and was pouring himself his first cup of coffee, and Bob had been up for hours E-mailing on the computer and playing with Hitchcock.
“Grandpa!” Harlan hugged Bob and followed him into the kitchen.
“Figured I had to come to you,” he said to Nina, and sat down. “Long time no see.”
“Well, Dad, what a surprise.”
“When I got the call from Bob last night, I decided to drop by. Okay with you?”
“How about a cup of coffee?”
“Sounds good, Paul.” Harlan, hale, red-faced, and loud-voiced as always, was wearing a Pebble Beach Company golf shirt and creased pants. At sixty-four, he had already been retired for years and he lived for the putting green. “My own daughter moves here and doesn’t come to see me. I have to come to her. Hard to imagine, isn’t it, Paul?”
“I’m sorry, Dad, I’ve been so busy-” Harlan ignored her crummy excuses and turned to Bob.
“So you’ve been chatting up Swedish girls in the Land of the Midnight Sun?”
“Not exactly,” Bob said.
“What brought you back so soon?”
“Stuff.”
“You talk just like your mother at your age, which is to say, not at all. You okay, though?”
“I’m okay.”
“Glad to be home?”
“Yeah. I guess this is home.”
Harlan accepted the coffee and began telling them about his new house in Pacific Grove and how Angie and Isaiah were doing. He made it all sound so normal and homey that Nina began thinking to herself, How come I’ve stayed away?
Still, she never felt comfortable with Harlan’s new family. Her stepmother, Angie, was younger than Nina, and Nina’s half-brother, little Isaiah, was more than thirty years younger than she. Nina didn’t feel that she belonged in this new family constellation.
And, to be unfair, she still thought Harlan had remarried too soon after her mother’s death. But Bob had none of these reservations, and was asking a lot of questions about his Uncle Isaiah, age three.
“We got him this electric-powered toy loader. Tot size, but he can raise and lower the loader and pick up dirt. He’s a hoot. He rides up and down the driveway all day in it.”
“This I gotta see,” said Bob.
“Come on over this morning and you can. I’ll take you boys to Cannery Row for pizza and drop you off later.”
Bob said, “Mom?”
“Your mom can come too. You too, Paul.”
“Sorry, Dad, but I have a prelim on Monday.”
“As always. How about it, bud?”
“Is that okay, Mom?”
“Sure,” Nina said. “Clean clothes in the laundry room. Hustle now.” When Bob had left, she said, “I really am sorry, Dad.”
“I’d like to spend some time with you, Nina-pinta.”
“I’ll try to do better. We’ll have dinner soon.”
“Where’s Bob sleeping?” Harlan was looking around.
“In the second bedroom. Paul’s study.”
“That’s all you have? Two bedrooms? Angie and I have four. He ought to stay with us. He’ll drive you two crazy in this little place, and Angie likes to make nice dinners. Not that you couldn’t make a nice dinner if you had the time,” he added.
Before Nina could respond, Paul sat down across from Harlan and said, “That’s a mighty nice offer, Harlan.”
“I’d love to have Bob for the summer. I’ll teach him to play golf. While you people figure out what you’re doing.”
“Isn’t that a great idea, Nina?” Paul said.
“It’s very nice,” Nina said. “I’d have to give it some thought. And talk to Bob about it.”
“Sure, sure. I know Angie wouldn’t mind a bit, though. And he hasn’t spent much time around Isaiah. He’s Bob’s uncle, after all.” And my half-brother too, Nina thought. Dad, why does your life have to be so complicated? This thought was followed by a chastening realization: She took after Harlan in that respect.
Bob came back in with his backpack.
“You ready to roll?” Harlan asked him.
“I just wanted to ask you something first, Mom. In private,” Bob said.
“Sure, honey.” They closed the door to the main bedroom.
Bob said, “I was listening to you guys. About living with Grandpa.”
“Oh.”
“What did you think of his idea?”
“What did you think, Bob?”
“I think it sucks,” Bob said. His blue eyes blazed out of his face. “I want to live with you, Mom. We’re the family. You and me and Hitchcock. I like visiting Grandpa but forget it-it’s us, right? Right?”
“Right,” Nina said. “Don’t worry, honey. Go visit Isaiah and we’ll talk later.”
She and Paul drove together to the office. Paul hadn’t broached the subject of Bob again, though she felt the pressure of his patience, and Nina had already moved into work mode.
They stopped at the photo shop to pick up blowups of Wish’s photos, which had come out well, and carried the manila envelopes upstairs to the office. Sandy hadn’t come in-it was visiting hours at the jail-and Paul began telling Nina about his visit to the Robles Vista facility. The director had spent a long time with him and Paul was of the opinion that none of the residents had the physical ability to carry out the arson fire on the hill below them.
“These people are severely disabled,” Paul said. “Blind or wheelchair bound, almost all of them. One of the blind guys is very independent and works out, but the director thought it would just be impossible. Besides, as he pointed out, to torch their hillside could result in having Robles Vista burn down too. The handicapped facility is right above that model home.”
“Has Crockett talked to them?”
“Every resident has been interviewed. I talked to Crockett, and he says none of them could be a suspect, even if he didn’t already have Wish. Most of them seem to be resigned to moving, though there is a great deal of anger and insecurity.”
Nina said, “Okay. Scratch them. No jury’s going to buy them as alternate suspects. We’re back to Siesta Court.”
“Danny and Coyote and the Moneyman.”
“Elizabeth played me an interesting tape last night. From the Siesta Court block party I attended.”
He was on the computer. “About Elizabeth. I meant to say, uh, sorry about getting juiced last night. I don’t even know why I did that. So what about this tape?”
“I think Elizabeth just wanted to talk to me anyway. And I know you don’t drink that much, but Paul, with Bob around, we’re going to have to straighten up in general.”
Paul swiveled around so he was facing her. He looked like he was thinking that the good times were over.
Nina said, “I really want that chair, Paul. That is the most comfortable, coolest chair in the world.”
He leaned back and let a beatific expression cross his face. “It is.”
“So that’s a no? You won’t let me use that chair? I have to use this director’s chair?”
“Honey, without my chair, I’m nothing.”
“Not very chivalrous.”
“I’m much nicer to my wives. But let’s not go there this morning, we have work to do.”
Nina fidgeted uncomfortably, just to make him feel bad, but he was pretending not to see it. So she went over to him and sat down on his lap.
“A compromise,” she said as he put his arms around her. “Anyway, she taped a conversation in which several men were standing in a group apart from the rest of the party, having a quick conversation. Their voices were lowered, but you could hear some of it. They were toasting Danny’s death.”
“They were what?”
“I’m telling you. They said, ‘Good riddance.’”
