Self-Defence

him she was gone a lot; he'd been planning to fire her, he suspected her of cutting work to moonlight.'

'Did Marvin tell you this?'

Nod. 'As a warning. Barnard came in to the Dollar like he was a customer. He was my table and I served him; then he handed me his card and started asking questions about Karen. I told him I didn't know where she was- which was true. Marvin hated us fraternizing with the customers, so he came over and sent me to another table. Then I saw him sit down with Barnard and I thought, Great, he's going to find out about the party. Then Barnard left and Marvin came up to me, asking me if I knew where Karen was. I said no. He said, That idiot thinks something's happened to her, but in my opinion she's off somewhere having fun or working another job. Then he tells me he doesn't approve of the moonlighting we've all been doing. He'll put up with it from me 'cause my work's good, but Karen was an amateur, couldn't even do one job right. So I figure he told Barnard he suspected a catering moonlight and Barnard kept snooping around till he found out which party it was.'

No great feat of detection. The Sanctum party had been in the papers.

'Did Barnard ever try to talk to you again?'

'Never.'

And he'd never recorded his talk with Marvin D'Amato.

'Did you warn Lowell that Barnard might be snooping around?'

'No! I told you, I had nothing to do with him after he gave me the… bag.'

'Did Barnard's showing up make you suspect anything about Lowell's story?'

'Why should it? I figured her cheap father had finally decided to spend some money on her.'

Her arms were across her chest like bandoliers.

'Five thousand dollars, Gwen. Just to avoid bad publicity?'

She tried not to look at me. I waited her out.

'Okay,' she said, 'I thought it was possible she'd OD'd or something. What was I supposed to do? Whatever happened to her, she was gone. Nothing I did would bring her back.'

'Was Karen into drugs?'

'She smoked a little pot.'

'What kind of dope was floating around the party?'

'Pot, hash, mushrooms, acid, you name it. People were tripping out, taking off their clothes, going off together into the woods.'

Meaning if there'd been a burial it would have had to be far enough away…

'Was Karen the type of girl who'd get into that kind of thing?'

'Who knows? She wasn't wild, but she wasn't any nuclear scientist either. Being at that party was the biggest thrill of her life. There were movie people all over the place.'

'But you never saw her go off with anyone specific.'

'Nope.'

'Not with Lowell?'

'No one. I wasn't looking at who was with who. I was spooning out designer slop and trying to keep it off people's cuffs.'

'What about Tom?'

'Working the bar. People were putting it away; he never even stopped for a break.'

'Why'd you go to Aspen?'

She frowned, as if thinking. ' 'Cause of Best. He was driving us crazy, showing up every day on our doorstep. And we were tired of seeing Marvin's sour puss.'

'Why Aspen?'

'Tom had a buddy who spent the winters there, teaching skiing. He'd inherited a house just outside of Starwood. He got Tom a job tending bar at one of the lodges. I found a position at a fur shop. It was good to be away from food.'

'I still don't see how you got from there to here.'

'Hard work and luck. Tom's buddy needed some cash fast. The house was all he owned. It wasn't much, just a little place-'

'Why'd he need cash fast?'

Tugging. 'He got busted.'

'For what?'

'Drugs,' she said, reluctantly.

'Are drugs what drew you to Aspen?'

'No! He was busted, not us! Check the police records there: Greg Fowler. Gregory Duncan Fowler III. He got busted for selling cocaine and needed bail money, so he signed over the house to us.'

'For how much?'

'Thirteen thousand. He kicked in two of his own and put down bond on a hundred and fifty thousand bail.'

'Lowell's three and ten of your own?'

'That's right.'

'Not bad for a house in Aspen.'

'The house wasn't as big a deal as it sounds. It was a shack, really. A hunting shack. Tom and I didn't even want it, the plumbing and electric was all shot. But Greg begged us. He said real estate was starting to take off and we'd be doing each other a favor. We lived in it while Tom fixed it up- he's good with his hands. The real estate did go crazy, all these Hollywood types flying in, buying up land.

'Our house was right next to this big parcel owned by a producer- Sy Palmer, he did Flying Angels, on TV? He really wanted our land so he could build riding stables, and he paid us seventy-five thousand. We couldn't believe it. Then we found out we needed to buy another house or pay lots of taxes, so we used the seventy-five to make a down payment on a bigger place, lived in that, fixed it up, sold it for three hundred thousand. We couldn't believe how well we were doing. Then I got pregnant.'

Her glance at Travis was full of tenderness and torment. He continued to roll the can.

'The doctors knew something was wrong even before he was born, but at first he didn't seem that different. Then… I knew I had to be in a big city, near a hospital with rehab facilities. We thought for sure Best had gone back east. So we moved back, made a down payment on a land-side house on Rambla Pacifica, and opened the store. Tom figured all his old surfing buddies would give us business, and they did. So we sold the land-side house and bought the place in La Costa. '

Talking about their financial climb had calmed her.

'That's it. Anyone can go over our tax records with a fine-tooth comb. We never sold dope or chased money. It came to us. When Lowell gave us that bag, we were shocked out of our minds. Kept it in a closet for months, just sitting there. Then I told Tom, What good is this doing, just sitting here? And Greg was already calling us, telling us about the opportunities in Aspen. After we moved there, things just happened.'

'Have you maintained contact with Greg Fowler?'

'I haven't.'

'What about Tom?'

No answer.

'He lives down in Mexico now, doesn't he, Gwen?'

Silence.

'Near Mexico City?'

Nothing.

'Gwen?'

'No, a small village near the coast. Far from Mexico City. I don't even know the name.'

'Still running dope, huh?'

'No!' she said. 'Charter fishing!'

'Tom's been down there, hasn't he? Brings back a nice catch of corbina or albacore?'

'So?'

'What's the address?'