I would’ve found her and kicked her ass. I was furious when he admitted it and I would’ve confronted her if I could have.” She smiled, but it didn’t seem happy. “Or, two, I would’ve told Kate about her. Just to hurt everybody.” She paused, staring at me. “You ever cheated on anybody, Noah?”
I thought about it and didn’t know how to answer, so I just shrugged.
“Then you haven’t,” she said. “Because the second you get involved in it, the second you can call yourself an adulterer, you change. You know you’re different than you were before,” she said, shaking her head like she wanted to remove the memory from her mind. “And, trust me, it’s not for the better.”
I watched Charlotte Truman walk back into the hotel, taking her guilt with her.
50
The late-afternoon sun burned brightly as I drove back to San Diego. The traffic choked up in the hills of Mission Viejo, and the half-moon-shaped Dana Harbor looked like a bathtub out in the distance, filled with tiny sailboats as I crawled along the winding concrete highway.
I called Liz at the office, but got her voice mail. I told her about Charlotte, explained why she might want to talk to her, and gave my opinion that she probably didn’t have anything to do with Kate’s death. I knew Liz would interview her anyway, looking for something I might have missed. I thought about asking Liz to call me, but instead said, “See ya later.”
I turned Jack Johnson up on the radio, traffic lightening as I passed through San Clemente. I glanced wistfully at the crowded waters at Trestles, which offered arguably some of the most maneuverable waves in southern California. I didn’t have my board or the time, but that didn’t prevent me from momentarily wishing that I could stop for a quick session. Instead, I continued driving and let Johnson’s guitar and smooth vocals wash some of the tension out of my body as I thought about my conversation with Charlotte Truman.
I believed the things she had told me. I could understand how Randall must’ve seemed attractive. Her telling of the story laid most of the blame in her lap, but I knew that Randall was an equal party. There are always at least two pieces to the puzzle. In this case, though, there seemed to be three, and I didn’t know where I was going to find the third.
I pondered that as I walked into Carter’s hospital room. He was staring at the television in the far corner of the room, the remote in his hand.
He motioned to the screen. “I am never going to a game again.”
I saw several Padres players walking off the field, heads hung low, as the entire Dodgers team danced around home plate.
“Yes you will,” I said.
He shook his head violently like a child disagreeing with a parent. “No way, dude. I’m finished with them.”
“Then who are you gonna root for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the Devil Rays. They don’t have any fans.”
I sat down in my chair. “Whatever.”
He clicked the TV off with the remote and dropped it in his lap. “Where you been?”
“That is a loaded question,” I said, not sure where to begin.
Carter studied me for a moment, leaned over the edge of the bed. “You were with Emily again.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yeah you were. I can tell.”
“What?”
“You had sex.”
“How can you tell that?”
He pointed to my head. “Those lines in your forehead are gone.”
“That means nothing.”
He leaned back in his bed. “Does too.”
“I haven’t seen Emily,” I said.
“Well, you did something with somebody,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
We stared at each other for a minute, neither of us blinking.
His eyebrows rose up slowly, and the rest of his face broke into a look of horror. “No.”
“Afraid so.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. No way.”
“Yup.”
“The Ice Queen?”
A big grin was my only response.
He dropped his head dramatically back onto his pillow. “I’m in here for a couple of days and you start making decisions like someone stole your brain.”
“I’m not here to argue about this with you,” I said.
“Well, somebody’s gotta argue it because being with her ain’t right.”
“Isn’t that a country song?”
“Shut up, Noah,” he said, raising his head up again. “Were you completely ripped? Or maybe in a coma?”
I showed him my middle finger, but smiled. “No.”
He looked at me, then waved his hand in the air. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now. My heart can’t take it.”
“You weren’t shot in the heart.”
“Whatever. Where else have you been?”
I told him about my trip to Los Angeles to see Charlotte.
He whistled when I finished. “Randall just can’t seem to do the right thing.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t think she had anything to do with Kate?”
“She’s clean,” I told him. “She’s a pistol, for sure. But she was pretty honest about the whole deal. Didn’t blame Randall for any of it.”
“Maybe that’s what she wanted you to think.”
“I don’t think so, but I left Liz a message about her anyway.”
Carter winced at Liz’s name. Then he shivered like he had goosebumps.
“I need to ask him about this other woman,” I said. “She may be just like Charlotte, but I want to talk to her.”
“Yeah, I agree,” he said.
I thought about another loose end. “Do you have that key Emily gave me?” I asked. “I gave it to you right before…”
“…you got me shot,” he finished. He looked over to the small dresser sitting under the television. “Top drawer. It’s with my wallet and watch.”
I walked over and opened the drawer. The key was resting on top of his wallet. I turned back to him.
“Charlie Stratton,” he said, anticipating my question. “He has a kiosk in Clairemont Square, by the theater. Makes keys on the spot.” He nodded at the key in my hand. “He’ll know.”
I put the key in my pocket. “Okay. You alright here tonight? You want anything?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not feeling so good anyway.”
I walked over to the bed. “Why? What’s wrong?”
He leaned forward, clutching his stomach. “Oh, God.”
I grabbed the blue, half-moon-shaped tray off the shelf next to his bed and slid it onto his lap.
He flopped back, waving it away. “Never mind. I guess it was just the thought of you and the Ice Queen again.”
I flipped the tray at his head. “I gotta go.”
