Street Rules

'Okay,' Gail said fondly, then threw in, 'You're a nut.'

'Yeah. See you in the morning.'

Frank returned to the nine-three table, vaguely amused with herself, and eager to contribute her share of damage to the fast-emptying pitchers.

When Gail opened the door to her apartment, Frank announced, 'I've got lattes and croissants waiting in the car.'

'Let me get my purse.'

She checked Gail's clothing while she waited. Nice jeans, scoop neck T-shirt, green like her eyes. The color reminded her of the way sun came dappled through the tall oaks on her street. Funky earrings, the gold knife and scissors Gail liked.

'Do I get to know where we're going yet?'

'Nope. Get a jacket or a sweater and let's go.'

Frank angled toward the 101 Freeway while Gail described the week from hell. They drove further and further west until Gail finally whined, 'Where are we going?'

'All right,' Frank relented, pleased to see the city behind her in the rearview mirror. 'Good morning lady, sans gentleman. Thank you for choosing Air Frank today. We know you have many other options and are pleased you've chosen us for your travel needs. The weather for our flight today is beautiful, highs in the low eighties, wind 10-15 miles off shore.'

Gail tilted her head back, laughing. Her neck was smooth and creamy white, and Frank suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss her there. The thought surprised her but she squelched it, continuing her patter.

'We'll be cruising at an altitude of approximately 40 miles above sea level at a speed of 65 miles per hour. During our flight, you'll be able to see the Pacific Ocean on your left and the San Gabriel Mountains on your right. Approximate travel time is 45 minutes, and we hope you'll enjoy your flight to Santa Barbara. If you have any problems or questions please feel free to contact the hostess. And again, thank you for choosing Air Frank. Click.'

'Santa Barbara?' Gail asked happily.

'Yeah. I thought it'd be fun to get away for a while. You ever been to the botanical garden?'

Gail shook her head, and Frank said, 'They're supposed to be incredible this time of year. You said you wished you had a garden and this is one helluva garden. We'll do that first, then have lunch at Citronell. Exquisite food at exorbitant prices but well worth it. After that, maybe walk off a few pounds on the beach, or check out the antique stores. You like antiques, right?'

Gail nodded, 'You've got a good memory.'

'Helps in my line of work. So we'll do that. Maybe grab a drink somewhere then head for home while the sun's setting. How's that sound?'

'You really want to know?'

'Yeah.'

'It sounds very romantic. Was that your intention?'

'No-o,' Frank said slowly, 'I just wanted to get away for a while. Been a rough week. Thought it'd be nice to turn our pagers off and get the hell out of Dodge.'

'It's very nice and you're sweet to think of it.'

'All right then. Just sit back and relax. If you still remember how to do that.'

'I do, but I'll bet you don't.'

'Ah-h, I might surprise you.'

'You seem to keep doing that,' Gail observed.

Walking through the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden in spring was like walking through a museum of uncased jewels. Gail zig-zagged from flower to flower, while Frank watched indulgently, charmed by the doc's simple and obvious pleasure. Later they ate appetizers and salad for lunch, with an outrageously good bottle of wine, then puttered through the antique stores downtown. Frank people-watched while Gail hunted unsuccessfully for deals.

With the sun heavy to the west, they started the drive back, bogged down in the weekend traffic. Frank fiddled with the radio, pausing on what sounded like the mournful opening to Tristan and Isolde.

'You like opera?' Gail asked, snuggling against the door.

'Kind of. I don't know much about it. Maggie used to listen to it all the time and I got used to her favorites. They're about all I know.'

'We should go sometime,' Gail said, closing her eyes.

'Wine catching up to you?'

She nodded with a sleepy smile. Frank reached across Gail and locked her door. 'Always the cop,' Gail murmured.

Frank was trying to decipher the colorful strike on the truck next to her, when Gail jerked up, exclaiming, 'Oh, shit!'

Snagging her big purse from behind the seat, she pulled out a large envelope and offered it to Frank.

'I forgot. It's Luis Estrella's lab results.'

'You've been carrying that around all day?'

'Well, I figured if I put it in my purse I'd see it and remember to give it to you but you haven't let me pay for anything.'

'Shit,' Frank muttered, tearing open the envelope, 'That'll teach me to be generous. How'd you get these so quick?'

'Do you know Suzie? In the lab?'

'She that chunky little butch with the glasses?'

'She's a little crusty,' Gail admitted, 'but she's a sweetie.'

'Probably got a crush on you.'

'I doubt it. She's got three grandkids and a husband who just retired. I told her I'd take her out to lunch if she could get that to me ASAE'

'Must want to have lunch with you pretty bad,' Frank maintained.

'Oh, stop,' Gail said, taking a swat at Frank, who was already scanning the material. Interestingly, there was no blood on his pants, but the blood on Estrella's sweatshirt matched samples from the rest of his murdered family, as did the samples from his shoes. A wad of old gum had trapped some fibers. Brown and tan polyesters that appeared to be automotive textiles, then an odd fiber. A horse hair. The soles also contained minute traces of what appeared to be alfalfa, oats, and horse manure.

That made Frank's forehead crease. The Sentra behind her honked and Frank eased up to the bumper in front of her.

No blowback on his hands. Odd. After having just shot that many people, at that close a range, Luis should have had blood and flesh spatter on his hands. But there was none. No gunshot residue either. Frank grabbed a pen and wrote 'gloves?' But that didn't make sense. Luis lived at the homicide scene. His prints were all over. Why would he bother to put on gloves?

She read more. Bits of organic debris shaken from his clothing were consistent with his location in the canyon. A man tripping around in the dark would have certainly put his hands out to brace himself, but there was no mention of organic debris in the nail scrapes. There were also more alfalfa, oat and horse manure traces. Was he in a barn somewhere? A stable? Why? Frank wondered.

The lab found the same brown automobile fibers in all his clothing and in his hair. Frank remembered the interior of Luis' car was brown. There were other fibers as well — navy, gray, and black wool. Clothing fiber. A couple others turned out to be more horse hairs.

'Jesus,' Frank breathed, her mind speeding with the sudden possibilities. She glanced at Gail dozing with her mouth slightly open. Frank was glad the doc wasn't awake to see the notes she was scribbling on the back of the report.

Chapter Twenty-four

Frank paced around the dining room table in shorts and a T-shirt. A couple empties stood upside down in the sink and she scowled when the phone rang. Fubar was on call and she hoped it wasn't him. When he caught