thinking I'd check with Oscar and Pen to see if either one was familiar with Yarrow's brother-in-law.
The moment I entered the office, I had an I-told-you-so moment.
Oscar was his usual hairy, untidy self, but Pen…
Pen was a substantial vision in a bright-turquoise outfit, which I thought the exact same shade as her little sports car. In Ariana's black-and-white room, she positively glowed. Her humongous sandals had been replaced with high heels. Her burnished hair was up, she wore dangling earrings, also turquoise, and a matching bracelet. She'd clearly taken some time applying makeup. Most alarming of all, she was smiling fondly at Ariana.
My gaze locked with Ariana's. I raised my eyebrows fractionally. She sent me a you-were-right resigned smile.
'Pen,' I said, 'you're looking bonzer. Got a big date tonight?' 'I can only hope,' said Pen, grinning meaningfully at Ariana. 'I can only hope.'
THIRTEEN
'Bloody stalker,' snarled Oscar Braithwaite. 'When I catch him I'll thrash him within an inch of his life.'
With an obvious effort, Pen switched her attention from Ariana to her brother. Clearly irate, she said, 'Oscar, how many times have I told you? Don't get involved. Leave it to the professionals.'
Oscar glowered at her through a curtain of hair. 'A good beating-that's what the bastard needs.'
Pen gave an irritated sigh. 'Honestly,' she said to Ariana and me, 'Oscar can be a pain, as you can see. He's been this way since we were kids, playing superprotective brother.' She snorted. 'As though I've ever needed much protection!'
'Stalkers are different,' Oscar declared. 'They're dangerous fanatics-stop at nothing.'
'Precisely why we're here,' said Pen. 'Anyone who has an advice program like mine gets their share of obsessive fans, but this one's something else. For the past two months, he's left written messages everywhere I go, even in my university office. And of course, there's the constant delivery of flowers. I've got to the point that I shudder every time I see a florist's van.'
'You've kept these notes?' Ariana asked.
Pen's mouth twisted with distaste. 'Kept the notes? No way. I barely scan them before they hit the trash.'
'Please keep any you get from now on and try not to handle them too much.'
'All right, I'll do that, but I guarantee there won't be fingerprints,' said Pen. 'This one's too smart. For example, he uses a different florist every time. I tried a spot of detective work myself, and called a couple of florists to find out who'd ordered the flowers. Got nowhere.'
Ariana's signet ring flashed as she picked up a ballpoint-black, of course. 'I'd like the name of any florist you remember delivering flowers to you.'
After Pen had named the three she recalled, Ariana said, 'What about telephone calls?'
'I may have spoken to him. I'm not sure. Callers to my radio show are screened, so the real crazies never get through to me. As an additional safeguard, there's a ten-second delay on the broadcast, so if necessary I can cut the person off before anything objectionable goes to air. Lately, I've had a few odd calls that seem to be from the same man. He isn't initially screened out because he sounds a reasonable human being until he gets me on the line.'
'What does he say?' Ariana asked.
Pen grimaced. 'Like the notes, extreme violence. Sexual sadism. Nothing I haven't heard before, but it's different when it's directed at me, personally.'
'What would you expect?' demanded Oscar, bouncing in his seat. 'You openly encourage grubby little people to sprout grubby little stories about their bodily functions.'
'Oscar has a few hangups,' said Pen, smiling indulgently at her brother.
I braced myself for an explosion, but Oscar merely spluttered ineffectually and then subsided.
'What about calls to your home phone?' said Ariana.
'Nothing so far. The number's unlisted.'
'That's no protection against someone determined to get to you. Let an answering machine pick up all your calls from now on.'
Pen frowned. 'So you think he's going to start pestering me on my home phone?'
'I'm surprised he hasn't already,' Ariana remarked.
Curious, I asked, 'How do you know it's a man? Could the calls to the radio station be made by a woman disguising her voice?'
Pen shifted her glance to me. 'Do women stalk? I would have thought they'd have better things to do with their time.'
'Women stalk,' said Ariana. 'And they can be just as dangerous. Is there anything to indicate this person could be someone with whom you had a prior relationship?'
Pen grinned. 'No way. I leave my lovers of both sexes fully satisfied.' Ariana's serious expression didn't change. 'A large proportion of stalkers have had some sort of intimate relationship with their victims.' Affronted, Pen declared, 'I'm not a victim-and never will be!' 'If you're being stalked, you're the victim of a crime,' said Ariana. 'Have you considered going to the police?'
'Bloody cops,' said Oscar. 'Steer clear of them, I say.' Pen smiled warmly at Ariana. 'First, let's see what you come up with, Ariana.'
Ariana didn't smile back. 'I'll give you a printed list of precautionary steps to take. As I'll be in Sacramento tomorrow and Friday, I suggest Bob Verritt takes over your case. He's a very experienced investigator and well- versed in problems like yours.'
'Sacramento?' Pen seemed disappointed, but then her spirits visibly lightened. 'But you're free this evening-'
'I'm afraid not. I have a flight first thing in the morning, so I intend to have an early night.'
Pen beamed. 'What a coincidence. I had in mind an early night too.' Ariana's blue eyes narrowed. My cue to step in and change the subject. 'Do either of you know a bloke called Wally Easton? There's a possibility he was the one who sent Oscar hurtling into the traffic.' 'You know who the bugger is?' said Oscar. 'Show me.' I displayed two photos of Wally Easton, which Lonnie had taken from the Web site for Wally's Strength & Health Club. One had him in a minuscule bathing costume, striking a bodybuilding pose. His bulging muscles glistened with oil, and his face wore an expression of arrogant superiority. The second photo, head and shoulders, showed the same egotistical conceit. He had an impressive physique, if you liked that sort of overdeveloped body, but he wasn't handsome. A small head perched on a thick neck. His mouth was too close to his nose, and his eyes were small and beady. He'd shaved his skull, and it too glistened with oil.
Pen shook her head. 'Total stranger. Looks terminally stupid.'
Oscar, who'd examined each photograph carefully, said, 'I've seen him somewhere, and not long ago. Can't remember when or where. Who is he?'
'Professor Yarrow's brother-in-law. At least he was. He's Yarrow's second wife's brother.' I went on to give the details Lonnie had found, including how Easton had escaped being charged with bashing his own sister.
'Hit a woman?' said Oscar. 'The bastard should be given a taste of his own medicine.'
'Not by you, Oscar,' said Pen, looking grim. 'If you see this Wally Easton again, keep away from him.'
Oscar rumbled incoherently.
Apparently able to translate, Pen snapped, 'Have you got a death wish? Look at those muscles. He'd tear you limb from limb.'
Oscar moved his shoulders irritably, and mumbled something in a sulky tone.
Pen's reddening face indicated there was about to be a nasty scene, but fortunately Ariana smoothly interposed with, 'To get back to the matter of your stalker, shall I call Bob Verritt in so you can brief him?'
'That won't be necessary,' said Pen. 'Kylie here and I are great mates already, aren't we? She can hold the fort until you get back.'
'But I'm at UCLA all day,' I pointed out.
