smiling expression in her eyes…
Afraid of what? Well, afraid she might not understand, get the wrong idea and start drinking again. Trusting somebody and seeing it blow up. Afraid of what she’d think of him, sneaking around, playing games. She’d ask why, and the wrong answer would be there before he could explain it.
That’s what she’d naturally think, that he’d slipped in snug and close so he’d be here when the money came in.
Picture it, when she found out he knew all the time. Her eyes holding his…
Try convincing her eyes the money didn’t have anything to do with it. He’d been looking for her, yes, he’d admit that. But he hadn’t gone to the meeting to find her. That was an accident. She could be someone else, he’d still be here…
But why go into all that if he didn’t have to? At least not yet. He’d tell her sooner or later, naturally, but not just yet, okay?
The manager of the Pancake House didn’t remember Ryan. He said, “Yeah, it came yesterday as a matter of fact. I called the Pontiac Police, and they said call the Sheriff’s Department. I called them and they said they’d send somebody over.”
“Oh, here,” Ryan said. He took out his wallet and showed the manager his official Oakland County Constable star.
“I thought you’d be here yesterday,” the manager said. He lifted the change drawer in the cash register and handed Ryan the Department of State window envelope addressed to Denise Watson.
“Thanks a lot,” Ryan said.
16
“I’M TICKLED TO death I’m talking to you,” Mr. Perez said. He was hunched over the papers and folders that covered the desk, smiling into the telephone.
Ryan, on the couch, was trying to listen while Raymond Gidre was telling him how he got along with niggers, how he didn’t bother them and they didn’t bother him.
“I know it must be a surprise, yes indeed.” He was giving it his Nice Mr. Perez tone. “I’m just happy I was able to locate you… No, I’m pretty sure. Miz Robert Leary, Jr., is that correct?”
“Matter of fact I had a good friend was a nigger,” Raymond Gidre said to Ryan, across the coffee table. “Boy name of Old Jim, we called him. Me and Old Jim’d go crabbin’ down to Grand Isle.”
“No, I’m afraid, Miz Leary, I can’t tell you much more than I have on the telephone. What I’d like to do is come out and see you, explain this in detail… No, it’s a property… No, not necessarily, Miz Leary. Tell me something. When would be convenient for you?”
“You ever go crabbin’?”
Ryan said yes, to shut him up. Raymond told him about it anyway, how you put the meat in the crab net, rotten meat if you had some, and how the sides of the net collapsed when it was laying on the bottom, then, see, the sides raised up again when you lifted out the net.
“Yes, ma’am, I can come out this evening, or I can meet you somewhere if you’d rather. Whatever’s convenient.”
“Drop them suckers in the boiling water, watch ’em turn red. First, though, you want to put in your bay leaf and your Tabasco, also some thyme.”
“That’d be fine, Miz Leary. It was nice talking to you and I’m looking forward to seeing you… Yes, ma’am, five o’clock. Bye-bye.”
“I generally eat five, six. Shit, they go down good.”
“What’s that, Raymond?” Mr. Perez was off the phone.
“Gulf crabs.”
“What’d she say?” Ryan asked.
Mr. Perez was grinning at Raymond. “Now you talking. Leave this meat and potato country and get back to cooking.”
“How’d she sound?” Ryan said.
“Surprised… though not too excited.” Mr. Perez got up and walked around to his bookcase bar next to the window. He began making himself a drink. “She seemed vague, like she just woke up.”
“Well, I doubt she’d be expecting anybody even to call her,” Ryan said. “You think?”
Mr. Perez came over with his drink. Raymond got up quickly and Mr. Perez sat down in his deep chair.
“You talked to her, did you?”
“I had to. Find out where she lives.”
“How’d she sound? I’m wondering if the booze has made her soft in the head any.”
“She’s not drinking,” Ryan said. “She quit.”
“She tell you that?”
“She was sober. You could see she hadn’t had anything in a while.”
“How do you tell that?”
“Her appearance. She looks like a different person now,” Ryan said. “It couldn’t have just happened overnight.”
Mr. Perez nodded, accepting that, but still curious. “You say you hung around this place, Uncle Ben’s. She came in to get her driver’s license and you started talking to her. How’d you go about that?”
“I went up to her, I asked her if she remembered me. She said no. I said, Aren’t you Denise Watson? I told her I met her in a bar one time. We had a cup of coffee and talked a little.”
“You tell her who you are?”
“I told her my name, I told her what I did. She seemed nervous then; but I didn’t pull out any papers, so she relaxed.”
“How’d you find out where she lives?”
“I asked her. Well, first I asked her if she’d like to go out sometime. She wouldn’t say yes right away, but before I left she gave me her phone number and told me where she lives.”
“In Pontiac?”
“No, it’s in Rochester.”
“Rochester doesn’t mean shit to me.”
“It’s east of Pontiac,” Ryan said. “The address is on the piece of paper I gave you. With the phone number.”
“You go to her place?”
Ryan paused. “Yeah, I did, to check. Make sure it wasn’t a phony address.”
“But you didn’t go in, huh, and visit?”
“No.” Ryan shook his head. “I was wondering,” he said then, “when you see her you don’t have to mention my name, do you?”
“Why?”
“I mean, if she asks how you found out where she lives. Since she isn’t in the book or anything.”
“I ask you why,” Mr. Perez said, “but you won’t tell me.”
“I just wondered, that’s all. In case I ever see her again.”
“I don’t see any reason to bring you into it,” Mr. Perez said. “Your part’s done. ‘Less she gets drunk and runs away again.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Ryan said. “Once she finds out her husband’s dead, I think she’s gonna be more relieved than anything else.”
“Feel you know her pretty well, huh?” Mr. Perez gave Ryan a little smile to show he understood. “How many cups of coffee you have with her?”
“A couple,” Ryan said. He was being honest and literal and gave Mr. Perez a nice boyish grin in return.
“You interested in her?”
