“Yeah,” I said, “Delilah is kind of dumb.”
“Want a cookie?”
I took one. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Want any Tab?”
“No, thank you.” The cookie tasted like a peanut-flavored matchbook.
“She lied to you, you know,” Dolly said.
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I listened upstairs on the other phone. I do it all the time. If you pick it up before she does, she never notices.
She’s really dumb.”
“What did the girl really say when she called?”
“She said they were going to punish my mother for screwing her as off all over town,” Dolly said. She offered Punkin a Nutter Butter cookie. He sniffed it and refused.
My respect for him increased. “Then the girl said that about shooting her down there. Isn’t that gross?”
“Gross,” I said.
“Don’t tell my mother I told you.”
“I won’t. Did the girl say anything else?”
“No.”
“Do you think what she said about your mother was true?” That was a nice touch; grill the kid about her mother’s sex habits. Nice line of work you’re in, Spenser.
“Oh sure. Everybody knows about my mother except maybe Daddy. She screws with everybody. She screws with Mr. Trask, I know.”
I wanted to know who else but couldn’t bring myself to ask. Instead I said, “Does it bother you?”
“Yeah, of course, but,” she shrugged, “you get used to it, you know?”
“I guess you would, wouldn’t you.”
“Used to drive Kevin crazy, though. I don’t know if he ever got used to it like I did.”
“It’s harder for boys to get used to, maybe,” I said. It wasn’t too easy for me to get used to. Maybe I should become a florist.
She shrugged again.
Her mother came back into the kitchen, her eyes puffy, with fresh makeup around them. Earl Maguire came with her Was she screwing with him? Screwing with Mr. Trask?
Christ.
Marge Bartlett said, “Dolly, go in the den and watch TV, please, darling. Mommy is upset. It will be better for you to go in there now.” She kissed her daughter on top of her head. Dolly picked up the package of cookies. “Come on, Punkin,” she said, and the dog followed her out of the kitchen.
“Well, Mr. Spenser, I see you’ve met my Dolly. Did you and she have a nice talk?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Chief Trask has left a patrolman here to guard the house. But I’d feel much safer if you’d stay too.”
Earl Maguire said, “We’d expect to pay you extra, of course. Mrs. Bartlett has already talked to her husband, and Rog has authorized payment to you.”
“What can I do the cops can’t?”
“You can stay close to me,” Mrs. Bartlett said. “You can go with me when I shop and go to parties and play rehearsal and things. You can be right here in the house.”
“We’d be employing you as a bodyguard,” Maguire said.
“While I’m guarding your body, I can’t be looking for your kid,” I said.
“Just for a little while,” she said. “Please? For me?”
“Okay. I’ll have to go home and pack a suitcase. You’ll be all right with Marsh here. Just stay close till I come back.
This may just be a crank call, you know. Kidnappings and disappearances bring out a lot of crank calls.”
Chapter 12
One of the good parts of living alone is when you move out no one minds.
It’s also one of the bad parts. I went home, packed, and was back at the Bartletts’ in an hour and a half.
