Stone Quarry

'I'll come over and buy you a bottle. You open?'

'What's the difference? Wasn't open last night. Didn't stop you.'

'True. You heard from Jimmy?'

Silence. Then, 'No. Brinkman called an hour ago, asked me the same thing. He ain't called me, he ain't gonna call me. Why the hell should he?'

'He's in trouble. You're his brother.'

'Hell with that. I'm through with that.'

'Tony-'

'Don't preach to me, Smith. I got no time for it.'

This time it was I who was silent. 'I'll be over later,' I finally said.

'Yeah,' Tony said. 'Whatever. Listen, you got a call. If you're gonna keep givin' out this number, you better tell people it ain't my job to know where you are when you ain't here. An' tell 'em it don't help to try an' impress me with who the hell they are, 'cause I don't give a damn who the hell they are.'

'You tell them,' I said. 'You sound like you enjoy it. Who called? MacGregor?'

'That trooper? Nah. One of your big-time pals. Lifestyles of the rich an' famous.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Mark Sanderson.'

I frowned into the phone. 'Mark Sanderson? Appleseed Baby Foods? I don't know him.'

'Well, now's your chance. He left a number. Want it?'

I found a scrap of paper in my wallet. 'Yeah, go ahead.' He read it off to me. 'Did he say what he wanted?'

'To me? I'm just the hired help.'

'Okay, Tony, thanks. Listen, there's something else. Two things. Last night you were telling me about Jimmy's girl. Do you remember? Alice. You said something about pies. What did you mean?'

'Oh, Christ, Smith, what do you care?'

'Look, Tony, I know what you think, that Jimmy killed that guy. I think you're wrong. And even if he did, he can't hide forever. In the end it'll make things worse. I want to talk to him. Maybe I can help.'

'Maybe he ain't around. Maybe he already beat it, Mexico or someplace. Maybe you helped enough.'

'Maybe.'

Neither of us said anything. I heard footsteps from the floor above, looked around to find I was alone.

Tony gave a tired sigh. 'Alice Brown. I don't know where she lives. Not around here.'

'What about the pies?'

'When they started comin' around, she started bringin' me pies, or cakes. Couple at a time. Fancy stuff. She said she made them. I served them here. They were good.' He paused. 'She's a sweet kid, Smith. Only met her three or four times, but I liked her. Don't know how she got tied up with Jimmy.'

'And you wouldn't know where to find her?' 'No.'

'Do MacGregor and Brinkman know about her?'

'I didn't tell 'em.'

'Good. Here's the other thing. I'm looking for a girl, long blond hair, small, pretty. She may be a friend of Jimmy's. Does she sound familiar?'

'No, but I ain't met his friends, except the ones he gets arrested with. What's she got to do with it?'

'Nothing. A friend of mine asked me to find her. It's something completely different.'

'Eve Colgate. I knew you was workin' for her.'

'Not your problem, Tony.'

'Shit. You tellin' me to mind my own business?'

'I get your point. I'll be over later, okay? If you do hear from Jimmy, try to talk him out of anything stupid.'

'Spent half my fuckin' life tryin' to talk him outta stupid things. I'm no good at it.'

'Try again. He might listen this time.'

We hung up. Eve Colgate was still upstairs, giving me privacy while I used her house as a public phone booth.

I looked at the number Tony had given me for Mark Sanderson, started to dial it, but stopped. I called the state troopers instead.

'D Unit. Sergeant Whiteside.' It was the same officer I'd spoken to yesterday.

'Ron MacGregor, please.'

'Hold on.'

Thirty seconds of electronic silence; then, 'MacGregor.'