Freezing

bright new gas station on the highway to the Croatian coast. When they came to the photos from Rwanda, the Kigali Airport shot was near the top. Jayne put the duplicate in an envelope and gave it to him. They walked to the front door.

‘I’ll keep in touch,’ he said.

‘It was good to see you.’

‘Tell Steelie I said hi.’

Jayne smiled a bit sheepishly. ‘Will do.’

She thought he was bending down to kiss her cheek, so she leaned toward him but he reached her first and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a bull’s eye, landing partly on her mouth and partly on her cheek, fast but not fleeting. Then he left quickly, raising a hand in farewell as he disappeared around the corner at the top of the stairs.

She closed the door behind him and stood for a moment, shaking her head at the contradictions he seemed to show and feeling surprised at the slight moistness where his rather papery lips had touched hers. It was only then that she wondered how he was getting back to his hotel. She hadn’t even called a taxi for him. She yanked open the door and clattered down the stairs, intending to catch him on the street but there was no sign of him. She realized she didn’t even have his cell phone number. Then she heard the phone ringing in her apartment and she bounded back up, thinking it might be him.

She picked up the phone and answered breathlessly. But it was only Steelie, sounding shocked.

‘Are you just getting in now?’

‘No, we were here and then I just came back in again.’

‘Wait. You had Gene come over to your place?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘My God, Jayne. Do I need to remind you? The guy’s an ignorant pig who—’

‘He’s mellowed since then.’

‘People like him don’t mellow.’

Jayne smiled, thinking about the number of times Gene had made her laugh that night. ‘Well, he has.’ Even she heard the smile in her tone.

‘Have you forgotten that night at the Cadillac?’

‘Yeah, he wondered if you were still holding that dance against him.’

‘That would be a yes. But what’s the deal? Are you seeing him again? And what was he doing in LA?’

‘He was out here on business and all we did was a have a nice reminiscence session. Talked about life – post-mission life. It was good. I mean, he’s still supercilious at times but he’s fine. He did kiss me.’

‘Ugh!’

Jayne laughed, knowing how abhorrent Steelie would find the idea. ‘Yeah, it wasn’t the best kiss ever. Kind of fourth-grade school yard, actually.’

‘What, like, when no one knows what they’re doing and a tongue goes up someone’s left nostril?’

‘God, no. There was no tongue, but there was something behind it . . . I don’t know. Something.’

Steelie was unmoved. ‘Who cares what was behind it, so long as it wasn’t a tongue?’

DAY THREE

Thursday

NINE

Scott pulled into the curb in front of the next body shop on his list. Eric double-checked the sheet he was holding and suppressed a yawn. ‘Sepulveda Body Shop.’

Scott caught his yawn. ‘I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.’

They got out of the car and walked into the gated concrete yard, which was packed with cars reflecting the light and heat of the summer afternoon, while all four bays in the building were occupied with vehicles up on raised pallets, mechanics working beneath them. Scott and Eric threaded their way past the parked cars and walked into the small office. An unattended desk whose trays were filled with files was shoe-horned into what appeared to be a closet but the room was dominated by a larger desk closer to the window-mounted air conditioner, which was spewing frigid air.

The young man behind this desk was wearing a blue shirt smeared with grease where he’d wiped his hands on it. The nametag read Javier and he was on the phone.

‘If you bring it here before eight in the morning, I can get someone to have a look at it same day. But if it’s rotors, it’s gonna take a day to get ’em in.’

When he hung up the phone, the agents opened their badges, announced themselves and asked for Javier’s surname.

‘Ruiz.’

‘What’s your position here?’ Eric asked.

‘I’m the manager.’

‘OK. Were you working Monday?’

Ruiz took on a wary look. ‘Yes?’

‘You get a van in here that needed body work to the rear doors?’

Ruiz glanced away briefly. ‘Yeah.’

Eric restrained himself from looking at his partner. ‘You note the license plate?’

‘Well, I don’t know if—’ Something out the window caught his attention and he hurriedly got up from the desk, moving to the side just as an overweight man charged through the front door. He hardly glanced at Scott and Eric as he made his way around the desk. He only looked up after he’d sat down in the chair and put his head in line with the air conditioner.

‘What do you need? Ruiz taking care of you?’ He was rolling his neck around to expose all the folds to the air.

Before they could speak or take out their badges, Ruiz was saying, ‘Mr Malbandian, these gentlemen have a government vehicle that needs looking at.’ He shot a nervous glance at Eric.

‘Well, help them, Ruiz. Help them. Out there.’ He shooed them out with his hands.

Scott caught Eric’s eye and they didn’t pull out their badges. They followed Ruiz out into the hot forecourt. Ruiz went to a narrow area between two black SUVs liberally adorned with chrome accents and halted. It was like standing in a toaster oven.

‘Look,’ he said desperately. ‘That guy’s my boss. He doesn’t know about this and he’d fire me in a second.’

‘Because of something you did with this van?’ Scott wasn’t following.

‘No, because I took some money that maybe should’ve gone to the shop.’ Ruiz looked over Scott’s shoulder.

‘Take it from the top, Javier.’ Eric encouraged.

‘OK. This guy came in with a van. Looked like he’d been rear-ended. There was a lot of damage to the lower part of the back doors and it was stopping the handles from latching right. Nothing weird about it until he said he just wanted me to spray the van and do all the work from the outside. Under no circumstances could I touch the handles. I said, don’t you want me to fix the lock, but he said that the padlock he’d put on was just fine. He had a chain through it too. He paid me six hundred dollars extra to do everything the way he said. And it wasn’t easy, let me tell you. He was real particular.’

‘Describe the van.’ Scott had pulled out his pad.

Ruiz closed his eyes before recounting. ‘Light blue Chevy, old. Maybe a pretty old Astro but it didn’t have its model on the outside. Um . . . good tires, I noticed that.’

‘And what color did you spray it?’

‘Gold.’

‘License plate?’

Ruiz looked embarrassed. ‘That was part of what he paid me to not notice. But I know it was Georgia.’

The agents exchanged a look. ‘Georgia?’ Scott asked. ‘You’re sure?’