'And your answer is?'
'Huevos rancheros,' she said.
'You win,' I said.
'Good. What have I won?'
I smiled at her without speaking.
'Oh,' Susan said, 'that.'
When the waiter arrived, Susan ordered decaffeinated coffee, and a fresh fruit platter with yogurt. I kept my date with the huevos rancheros.
'Other than a threat to my life the other night outside that restaurant,' Susan said, 'I've been having a very nice time. How about you?'
'The time we've spent together has been nice,' I said.
'Isn't it always,' Susan said.
'But other than that I feel like the more I learn the less I know.'
'Do you know who it was that threatened us?'
'Guy named Jerome Jefferson,' I said, 'sent by a man named Morris Tannenbaum.'
'How about the other man? Tino?'
'No record. Haven't located him. The guess is he's a day player, hired by Jefferson for the occasion.'
The food arrived. Susan ate a raspberry.
'Why would this Taimenbaum person want to threaten us?'
'He wants me to stay away from Lou Buckman, Potshot, the Dell, and the west side of the continent.'
'He mentioned the Dell?'
'Yep.'
'Then he's… he's involved,' she said.
'You get sick of shrinkage, you could get a license and join me. Spenser and Silverman, investigations.'
She picked up a wedge of cantaloupe with her fingers and took a small bite off the end of it. I could never figure out why I was eating with my hands when I did that. When she did it she was elegant.
'Alphabetically it's Silverman and Spenser,' she said.
'But I'd be senior partner.'
'And I'd be main squeeze,' she said.
'Silverman and Spenser,' I said. 'Investigations.'
'So how is Tannenbaum involved?'
'I don't know.'
'Have you learned anything more about Lou Buckman, the little blonde cutie?'
'You sound jealous,' I said.
'So?'
'You haven't even met her.'
'So?'
'Apparently all was not as it seemed with the Buckmans. They don't seem to be too well liked by former colleagues and neighbors. It is alleged that they both slept around. One interesting factoid: Both Mark Ratliff and Dean Walker lived in the Buckmans' old neighborhood in Santa Monica. Ratliff seems to have had an affair with her. And the former Mrs. Ratliff had a get-even affair with Steve Buckman.'
'Walker is the police chief in Potshot,' Susan said. 'Who's Ratliff?'
'I told you about him,' I said. 'The producer. Moved to Potshot to get away from the Hollywood rat race.'
Susan smiled.
'Where, I assume, he was running a dead last.'
'I've heard,' I said, 'that people with a three-picture deal don't usually seem to suffer the same moral revulsion.'
Susan dipped a small wedge of pineapple into her small cup of yogurt and took a small bite.
'So what are you going to do now?'
'When in doubt,' I said, 'go home.'
'Oh good,' Susan said.
'Getting bored?'
'Getting homesick,' Susan said.
