Street Rules

'Which suggestion is that?' Gail asked, doing the same thing.

'Considering that a cop might be involved in the Estrella business.'

'Really?' Gail asked, surprised.

'I don't have any better leads right now,' Frank allowed, 'and some of the things you said made sense. I don't have a suspect but it's an interesting idea to toy with. It would explain a couple lose ends that have been bugging me.'

'Like what?'

'Odds and ends.'

She explained what she'd already told Bobby, adding, 'There wasn't one spent shotgun shell at the Estrella's. Whoever did them picked up after himself. Or herself. I should be impartial 'til I have a fact. Anyway, you saw Luis Estrella's room. It was a pigsty.'

As a junkie's habit worsened, so did his personal hygiene, and from the looks and smell of the garage room, Luis had been pretty heavily into his addiction. Frank went on to explain the incongruity of an oil-burner like Luis meticulously shooting six people and carefully picking up each ejected shell.

'Yeah,' Gail agreed. 'Especially after just having killed his family.'

'And the dog,' Frank added, the line having become the black joke tagged on to any mention of the Estrella body count.

'And we know Placa took five rounds, but only one casing was recovered from the scene.'

'Maybe she was being shot at from inside the car.'

'Not likely. It doesn't make physical sense to fire a handgun inside a car. If the shooter was in the vehicle, in all probability he had his hand out the window. So where are the other four jackets? Item: only one out of eleven cartridges was found. Item: all the Estrella's were killed with one, well-placed shot. The shooter wasn't firing in a panic or a frenzy. He was coolly, deliberately aiming for maximum effect. He was doing a premeditated job.'

'The same for Placa,' Gail added and Frank nodded.

'Let's say it was the same shooter. He got three of the five shots in the ten spot. That's damn good placement for a moving target. Whoever shot her's either extremely lucky or has had some serious practice with a handgun. Plus another item: the shot to the back of her head? One hundred percent fatal — you're random shooter doesn't know that. These idiots spray bullets everywhere and half of them glance off the skull bone. This guy, or gal, but I don't think so, went out of his way to place that shot. It was worth it to him to risk the extra time it took to make that shot. Why would somebody be that afraid of her? Was it somebody with a lot to lose? A reputation, a career, a family?'

Frank was drinking beer tonight and she traced a bead of condensation down the side of her Guinness bottle.

'Who knows. Anyway, this is absolutely just between you and me.'

Nodding her complicity, Gail said, 'See? I might not be such a bad detective after all.'

'Maybe not,' Frank granted.

After coffee and Armangac, they sauntered back to Gail's office, enjoying the silky night air and easy conversation. Frank waited while Gail prowled around in her purse for keys.

'Tarrah,' she said holding them aloft. She caught Frank reflexively checking Gail's empty, dark car, and chided, 'Always the cop.'

'Should make you feel safe.'

'I feel a lot of things around you,' Gail admitted. 'That's one of them.'

Frank didn't know what to do with that and she examined the pavement at her feet.

'So what do you think?' Gail asked. 'We've had a couple dinners now. How would you feel about a real date?'

'What do you mean a real date?' Frank hedged.

'A planned event. Not something accidental after work or at the Alibi.'

Frank nodded, seeking refuge again in the solid ground.

'Gail,' she struggled, 'I really enjoy your company. I like being with you. But I'm moving through some stuff right now,' Frank faltered. 'Let's just say it probably wouldn't be wise of me to get into any kind of a romantic involvement.'

She paused and Gail asked, 'What sort of stuff?'

'Old stuff. Stuff I should have dealt with a long time ago, and that I'm just now getting around to.'

'I see. So does this stuff,' Gail stressed, 'preclude something as innocent as a movie, or going for a walk together?'

'No,' Frank allowed with a thin smile. 'I just don't want to mislead you. I don't think I'm up for anything more significant than a fine friendship right now. And you might want more. I don't know.'

Holding a grin back on her lower lip, Gail said, 'I've been single all my life, Frank. I'm not asking you to marry me. I just thought it would be nice to look forward to doing something together. Would that be so awful?'

'Not at all. But I remember you saying something about being ready to settle down . . . and if you had that intention with me, it's probably not such a good idea.'

'Fair enough,' Gail said letting the grin loose. 'So do you think you'd be up for a hike Saturday morning or would that be too involved?'

'A hike?' Frank asked like she'd never heard the word.

'Yeah, you know.' Gail waved a rashed hand, 'Up on the Angeles Crest or something.'

'I've never been hiking,' Frank answered, pulling on her chin. 'Sound's like something Boy Scouts do.'

'What do you mean you've never been hiking?'

'Which part of that didn't you understand?'

'How can you have never hiked?'

'Hey. I grew up in New York City,' Frank insisted, 'And now I live in L.A. Where am I supposed to have done all this hiking?'

'All around,' Gail cried. 'God, we've got some of the most beautiful country in the world right in our own back yard. We've got the Santa Monica's, the San Gabriel's, San Gorgonio. These places are beautiful. Anza Borrego in the spring, God! I can't believe you've never been! Let me take you Saturday,' Gail pleaded. 'We won't do anything strenuous, just a short hike. I know a pretty little trail right outside of Altadena. What do you think?'

'Would I need hiking boots?'

The doc answered with the low chuckle that Frank found so attractive.

'No, silly. Just tennis shoes. We're not scaling Everest.'

'How long would it take?'

'As long as we wanted it to. Unless you really don't want to do it. You're enthusiasm's hardly overwhelming.'

Frank considered, finally relenting, 'All right, Nature Girl. Show me.'

'You be at my place Saturday morning at eight o'clock, and I'll show you.'

'I don't need a backpack or a walking stick like those guys on the cover of 'Outside'?'

'It's a two-hour hike, Frank, not a forced march across the Himalayas.'

'All right,' Frank smiled. 'See you at the Alibi Friday?'

'Probably not. I've got to get a good night's sleep for this arduous trek.'

'Good idea. See you Saturday then.'

'Okay.'

Gail opened her door, but Frank said, 'Hey. Do I need pitons and rappelling ropes?'

'Yeah. For when I throw you over a cliff,' Gail laughed. 'Don't get too drunk Friday.'

'Can't. On call again.'

'Are you on call every weekend?'

'Nope. Just building up favors. Never know when you might need them.'

Frank did as instructed, showing up at Gail's condo at eight AM sharp on Saturday morning. The doc drove them out to the mountains behind Pasadena and they hiked until the day got too warm. Other than mistaking every stick in the trail for a rattlesnake, Frank had a good time. It was easy being with Gail and when they got back to the condo, Frank ventured, 'You got a hot date tonight or would you like to come over to my place? I'll throw some