“Would you give her a call? She probably forgot. It?s been a rough day for her.”
“I got a „no disturb? on that unit,” he said.
“She?s expecting me,” I said, trying not to lose my temper.
“There?s no Kilmer on the list and I got a „no disturb? on that unit,” he said, politely but firmly. “Why
don?t you go someplace and call her, tell her to call the gate and clear you.”
I showed him my card and his eyes stuck on the first line— “Agent—U.S. Government”—.--and
stayed there until he looked back up.
“My brother?s a city cop,” he said, looking out the window at nothing in particular. “He?s taking the
Bureau exams in the fall.”
“Fantastic. You know what?s going on tip there at Mrs. Raines? place, don?t you?”
“You mean about Mr. Raines?”
“Yeah.”
“Terrible thing.” He looked back at the buzzer and asked, “This official?”
“What else?” I said in my official voice.
“They got tough rules here, buddy. Nobody, not nobody, goes in without a call from the gate first. It?s
in the lease.”
“Like I said, she?s expecting me; probably forgot to give you the name with everything else that?s
going on. Why don?t I ride through?”
“Hell, I?ll just call her,” he said. “Guest parking is to the right, behind those palmettos.”
I pulled in and parked in the guest lot, which was so clean and neat it looked sterilized. When I got
back, the guard had his grin
“A-okay,” he said, making a circle with thumb and forefinger. “You were right, she forgot. First walk
on the left, second unit down, 3-C.”
I thanked him and headed for 3-C. The place was as quiet as the bottom of a lake. No night birds, no
wind, no nothing. Pebbles crunched under my feet when I reached the cul-de-sac. It was a class
operation, all right. Each condo had its own pool. There wasn?t a speck of trash anywhere. Soft bugrepellent lights shed a flat, shadowless glow over the ground s.
Three-C stood back from the gravel road at the end of two rows of azaleas. It seemed like a cathedral
on Christmas Eve. I pressed the doorbell and chimes played a melody under my thumb. Chains
rattled, dead bolts clattered, the door swung open, and she was standing there.
The events of the last twenty-four hours had taken their toll. Her eyes were puffed, her face drawn and
sallow. Grief had erased her tan and replaced it with a gray mirror of death. She closed the door
behind me and retreated to a neutral corner of the room, as though she were afraid I had some
contagious disorder.
