Self-Defence

I recalled the last session. Lots of questions, no answers. 'Did you ever reach Detective Sturgis?'

'He told you I phoned?'

'He called me last night wanting to know if some sort of emergency had come up. Said he hadn't been able to reach you.'

'The two of you are close friends, aren't you?'

'Yes, we are.'

'He talks about you as if you're some kind of genius. Did you tell him I was okay?'

'I didn't tell him anything. Confidentiality.'

'Oh. That's okay; you can talk to him any time. I give you permission.'

'There'd be no reason to, Lucy.'

'Oh. Okay. All I'm saying is I trust him, and after what I've been through, I'm a good judge of men. Anyway, I reached him. The reason I wanted to talk to him is just, I've been getting some phone calls over the last few weeks.'

'What kind of phone calls?'

'Hang-ups. I'm sure it's no big thing.'

'How many?'

'Couple a week, maybe four or five in all, mostly when I'm cooking dinner or watching TV. For all I know it's some screwup with the phone lines. Milo didn't seem that concerned. Said I should hang up right away, and if it didn't stop there was a machine I could get from the phone company that would record the caller's number.'

'Sounds like a good plan,' I said, keeping my voice calm. The killer who'd burned down my house had worked up to it with harassment. 'Would you like to come in at noon?'

'Oh,' she said, as if she'd forgotten she'd called to make an appointment. 'Sure. Noon would be perfect.'

***

She was five minutes late and breezed in wearing a snug white cotton turtleneck and red bandanna over jeans, white socks, and moccasins. Tiny ruby studs in her ears and her hair was loose. First time I'd seen it that way. It flattered her.

She said, 'Everything's really pretty fine.'

'Glad you're feeling better,' I said.

'I really am. Maybe it's taking a break from work. I always thought my job was so important to me, but after being away from it for a couple of days I don't miss it.'

'Are you thinking of quitting permanently?'

'I'm not much of a spender, so I've got enough saved up to last awhile.' She gave an embarrassed smile.

'What is it?'

'I've also got a trust fund- not enough to live rich, but it is a thousand a month, so that's a pretty good cushion. That's what I meant by others having things a lot worse.'

'Are you uncomfortable having a cushion?'

'Well,' she said, 'I didn't do anything to earn it. And it comes from his side of the family- his mother. A generation-skipping thing, they call it. To save taxes. I generally give a big chunk of it away to charity, but if it can help me mellow out a little now, why not take advantage of it?'

'I agree.'

'I mean, I've got nothing to prove. In three years I've never taken a sick day- do you think it's irresponsible? Quitting, just like that?'

'Not at all.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

'So… like I said, everything's fine… I also talked to Milo about the new murder. The Santa Ana police are consulting with him, which is smart. I remember how impressed I was when he testified. All those details at his fingertips, he never let the defense lawyer intimidate him- I guess his size helps; what is he, six-four?'

'Six-three.'

Her color was high and her fingers were knitting an invisible sweater.

'There's something I want to tell you,' she said. 'I'm highly attracted to him.'

Keeping my face neutral, I held eye contact.

She crossed her legs and touched an earring. 'It's been a long time since I've felt this way about a guy.' Looking away. 'Except for a few mistakes, I'm basically a virgin.'

I nodded.

'Big mistakes,' she said, 'I grant you. But I've put them behind me.'

'Is that what you meant this morning when you said after what you'd been through you were a good judge of men?'

She muttered something I couldn't make out.

'Lucy?'

Another mumble that sounded like 'Take a look.'

I leaned closer.

Her mouth continued to work. She closed her eyes.

'I hooked. Okay?'

I didn't answer.

'Just for a summer,' she said.

Remembering the ulcer, I said, 'The summer you taught in Boston?'

'I was a bona fide virgin. Then I met someone at Head Start, the uncle of one of my students. Gorgeous, very charming, bright black guy. He used to come and pick the little boy up, and we started talking. One thing led to another. I thought I was in love. After we were together for a while, he asked me to be with a friend of his. I didn't like the idea but I agreed. It ended up not being as bad as I'd thought- the friend was okay and he gave me a gift, some shampoo. L'Oreal. I still remember that.'

Her eyes opened. Tears filled them.

'I was able to put myself in another place and get through it. And Raymond was so proud of me. Telling me he loved me, I was showing real love for him. Next week he brought another friend over.'

She threw up her hands.

'It was bad, but it could have been a lot worse. His other girls were all working on the street. He let me work out of a room. Clean, warm, color TV. He made sure I didn't get any violent ones. The men came to me. It was almost like being popular.'

She let out a dead laugh.

'That's it. My sordid past. Ten weeks of white slavery and mortal sin, and then I went on to Belding and Raymond found some other gullible idiot.'

Pushing hair away from her face, she forced herself to look at me. 'I haven't been with a man since then. Do you think I'm still too sullied for your best friend?'

'It took courage to tell me,' I said.

'Don't worry about my having evil designs on him or being some freak-case co-dependent. When I say I'm attracted to him, I mean psychologically. His kindness, his solidity. I'm working up my courage to let him know how I feel. Is that okay with you?'

'You don't need my permission, Lucy.' Thinking of the complications that were sure to come.

She stared at me.

'You don't approve, do you?' Snapping her head down, she studied the floor. 'Big mistake to tell you.'

'Lucy, it's not-'

'I should have known,' she said softly. 'You're entitled to your feelings. I tell you I was a whore, it's only natural you wouldn't want me near your friend.'

'It's not that at all.'

'Then what? Why does your face change when I talk about liking him?'