I let out my breath slowly. “I only want to make sure you understand what you might be up against. If you want me to keep looking, I’ll do just that.”
“I appreciate that, Johnny.” She blushed, lowering her eyes from mine. “There’s something else, something we haven’t talked about. The night before you left. I know things got kind of weird, but before that everything happened too quickly for me. I guess I wasn’t ready for it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to happen. Only that we need to take it more slowly.”
Her face had turned red. I forced a smile and told her I felt awful about it, and that I hoped the two of us could forget it ever happened.
She looked startled, not expecting what I said. “That’s not at all what I’m trying to say. I don’t feel bad about it and you shouldn’t either. And I’m not saying we should stop!”
I shook my head. “We have to. It was plain wrong with you being as vulnerable as you are right now, and well, me being as old as I am.”
“Why are you acting like this? You didn’t-” And she stopped herself cold. She gave me an odd kind of look, almost as if she were seeing me for the first time, and sat there for a good minute trying to make up her mind about something. Finally she told me I was probably right. She looked down at her nails and added, “I better be going. You’ll let me know as soon as you find out anything?”
I nodded, my smile strained. “And don’t worry. I’ll find them for you.” I watched, almost hypnotically, the rhythmic motion of her hips as she walked towards the door. She hesitated slightly and then she was gone. As the door closed behind her, I couldn’t help but feel a little empty inside. As if I had screwed up and lost something I couldn’t afford to lose.
That night before I left for Oklahoma . . . .
I closed my eyes and played it back in my mind. The way Mary’s lips felt brushing against mine, the way she smelled and how dizzy and light everything became. And then the sickness rolling over me. For a moment I could feel it again, the dull nausea swirling in my head and stomach. I could feel it way down in my throat, pushing its way up. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the images out of my head.
The hell with it. The hell with all of it.
It wasn’t as if there was anything to be ashamed of. I had stopped it way before that. Anyways, I didn’t show her anything she hadn’t seen before. I bet if I had kept going she would have taught me a few new tricks. It’s just like everything else; you try so hard in this lifetime and, well, like I said, the hell with it.
And besides, the two of us were nothing at all like Craig Singer and his daughter.
Nothing at all like that . . . .
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning my mind back to what I needed to focus on. I wasn’t going to be able to talk Mary out of searching for her parents. Something else was going to have to be thought up because if Mary didn’t get what she was paying me for, sooner or later she was going to lose faith in me and hire herself another detective.
He’d find Rose for her. He’d have to. It was easy enough for me to do it.
With a start, I heard Max’s voice coming from the anteroom. His voice was hushed as if he were trying to keep it low, and I realized he had to be talking to Mary. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I’d forgotten about him.
I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I knew what he was after. He’d be making it sound as if the two of us were closer than brothers and all the while dropping snide hints and innuendos about me. And acting every bit as dumb and innocent as he looked. “Johnny, great guy, give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. Used to be a pretty good detective before people started asking for his autograph. I guess with all that, you can’t help getting a little careless.” And he’d be worming out of Mary what she had hired me for, and then building himself up as if God had put him on earth specifically to help her. All to chisel me out of a client.
I have a rule among the detectives that work for me that I, and I alone, meet with the clients. Over the years I caught him sneaking behind my back a few times. That’s what happens with some folks when you try to treat them fair. They look to stick it to you as soon as you’re bent over and ignorant to the world. And I couldn’t have been any fairer to Max over the years, always giving him the benefit of the doubt. Putting up with a lot of crap that any other sane person wouldn’t, letting him act as if I should be working for him instead of the way it was.
I had to laugh thinking about how his jaw would drop when Mary told him what she was paying me. He’d get her to tell him. No matter how hard up he was he wouldn’t want to work for that. And anyway, he was probably even dumber than he looked. If there was anyone out there who couldn’t find his ass from his elbow, let alone Rose, it was him.
* * * * *
It would look funny for me to go out there and say something, so I sat and waited. After a few minutes I heard the outer door to my office shut. I got up and asked Max to come in. He hesitated before taking my hand, and when he finally did, you’d think I was contagious with something particularly unpleasant. I gave him a big smile and an even bigger slap on the back as he made his way past me. We sat ourselves down and without as much as a how-do-y’-do he tried pushing a folder on me. I ignored it and made my smile nice and friendly.
“They put a new coffee machine out in the hallway. If you like I could get you some?”
He shook his head.
“Something from the vending machine? Gum? Candy bar?”
“No, nothing, thanks.”
“So, Max, how are things going for you?”
“I can’t complain,” he said, sounding hoarse, as if his throat had been scraped with sandpaper. “I’ve finished the Crowley job and have the report ready for you to look over.”
I waved it away. “My poppa always taught me that if you worry too much about business you’re plain worrying yourself too much. We can get to that in a little while. Speaking of little, how’s the missus doing?”
“Uh, she’s okay.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that. And how are your boys getting along?”
He shifted in his chair. “They, um.” He cleared his throat. “They’re doing okay too.”
“Regular chips off the old block, aren’t they?”
“Um, yes. But they-”
“Although,” I cut in, “you can see some of Moira’s features in them. Her better features, that is.”
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, emotion muffling his voice.
“Nothing at all,” I said innocently. “Only that some of her features are better than others. Nobody in this world’s perfect.”
“I don’t know if-”
“Aw, come on.” I winked. “There’s nothing about her you would change if given the chance?”
“No!”
“There’s something about everyone that could be improved. Me, I’ve never been too happy about my nose. It’s a little too small and flat for my face.”
“I’m happy with her the way she is,” he insisted.
“That’s good to hear.” I nodded. “It sure must be something having a wife and family. How long has it been since I’ve seen them?”
“I’m not sure-”
“You know what? I’d really enjoy visiting you and Moira and your boys sometime.”
Of course I wouldn’t enjoy it at all. Not with the way Moira shuffled about, acting as if I were the reason for all her problems. And not with having to sit there with his boys. It was a shame the way they’d turned out, getting the worse they could possibly get from their parents. Growing up to be big, sullen and dull like their daddy, and with their mother’s pasty, colorless features. It really was a shame.
I wondered what it was like having a family like that. Waking up every morning knowing they’d be waiting for you at night. I wondered how Max has managed not to take his gun and . . . .
* * * * *
Max turned uneasily in his chair, working himself up as he tried to explain why right now wasn’t a good time for them to have company. “Sure we would like to have you over, but, uh, I need to talk to my wife.” His face turned redder as he continued, “Um, this is a bad time, though. Moira hasn’t been feeling well and there’s a lot to do around the house. But I’ll talk to her.”
