“Hey,” I said.
She gave me a wan smile and wiped her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I’m just being silly. Do you have Kleenex in here?”
I got a small package of tissues out of the glove box, handed it to her.
She took one, dabbed her eyes, and sniffed. “It’s been so good for me lately. I mean, it’s been so intense, not like in the bars. But it can’t last, since you’ve got Jeri. Then it’ll be back to . . . well, to sort of nothing much.”
“There are a lot of guys out there, Sarah.”
Her voice took on a bluesy note. “Sure. Boy Scout types who like to look but don’t need more than that. Lots of ’em out there.”
Damn. That Boy Scout thing again.
“You’re like one in a million, Mort. In case you didn’t know.”
Well . . . yeah.
“So,” she went on, “I guess I’m crying about what I’ve lost. Or will lose in a while—soon, most likely. I know it’s dumb, but if this ends, which I guess it’ll have to, then what? I know I’ll live, but life will be so empty and gray. I guess I’m just spoiled.”
“There’s got to be someone out there who would fall all over himself to look at you and breathe heavy while doing it.”
She smiled. “You didn’t do any heavy breathing. Last night or this morning.”
“Yeah, I did. I just know how to hide it.”
“Great. Now I need a personals ad: Heavy breather wanted, must have Boy Scout personality.”
“Never know what you’d get with that.”
She let out a pained laugh. “I wouldn’t get you. Thing is, I don’t think this stupid fake hooker thing will work anymore. It’s nothing like what you and I have been doing the past few days.”
I shrugged. “Guess not.”
“After being with you, it wouldn’t. Now . . . I don’t know. I don’t suppose Jeri would loan you out from time to time? Like once a week. Let me wind you up pretty good, then she can take you over the edge?”
“Over the edge, huh?”
She looked at me. “Well, yeah. Seems like you’d need that.”
Made me smile. “Once a week, huh? Wouldn’t hurt to ask.” Her, not me. Me it might hurt. Me it might put in the hospital. Then again, maybe not. Jeri was full of surprises these days.
“Yeah, right. I’ll just—‘Hey, Jeri, send Mort over so he can watch me . . . I don’t know, take a long shower or water my plants, whatever.’ I’m sure that’d go over big.”
“She told me she understands you. There’s that.”
“What? You think she wouldn’t mind?” Holiday’s voice held a hopeful note, as if she thought there might be a chance.
I didn’t know how to answer that so I didn’t try.
“What about you, Mort? Would you? You know, if?”
Those were some rip-roarin’ questions. Nothing like that ever came up when I was working for the IRS. Would I like to watch a gorgeous girl take a shower? Me? You kiddin’? I’d so hate that. I would rather walk on hot coals. What would I do if Holiday asked Jeri and Jeri said, sure, you can have him on Tuesdays?
“I’m gonna have to take the fifth on that, kiddo.”
Another strained laugh. “Sorry. I know I’m not being fair. I just feel kind of broken right now. I’ll get over it. But . . . damn, I think this is gonna be hard.”
I dropped Holiday off at her place in Reno then went over to Jeri’s. I found myself involved in an epic lip lock four seconds after I got in the door. When we came up for air, Jeri said, “We’ve got another lead on the Reinhart thing, and how’d it go with Sarah?”
“Interesting, as usual. And I got that story you said was up to her to tell me. Showering with the boys.”
“Pretty wild, huh?”
“A little, maybe. I’ve heard worse. How about we go take a walk? I’ve been sitting for over two hundred miles.”
It was a nice day, shadows dappling the sidewalks, birds in the trees, not much traffic, temperature in the seventies. We did the river walk—headed west toward Keystone Avenue then through Idlewild Park with the Truckee River to our right, ducks floating in a pond to our left, and I told Jeri what happened in Tonopah, including how long it took Sarah to get dressed that morning. And about her tears in the car on the way back, and her comment about maybe getting yours truly on loan from time to time.
“Almost four minutes to get dressed? Wow. I could get mostly decent in a minute fifteen.”
“Give ’er a break. She was still half asleep.”
Jeri smiled. “And she gets to wind you up on Tuesdays, then I get to take you over the edge?”
“Over the edge was her idea, Tuesdays was mine. I didn’t tell her that, though. She didn’t seem in the mood for humor right then.”
Jeri took a deep breath, blew it out. “We should turn around, go back.” She took my arm, got us headed east at a fair clip.
“Things are that bad, huh?”
“No. I just want to get you into bed and make sure nothing got broken. Sounds like you might’ve been wound up pretty tight.”
“I’m okay, but I appreciate your concern.”
“You don’t sound rational. We should walk faster.”
Which we did.
Jeri looked up at me. “She cried? Really?”
“A few tears. She’s been having a pretty good time lately, but knows it isn’t going to last.”
“I think Tuesdays would be okay. I don’t normally have a lot on my plate on Tuesdays.”
I stopped dead. “Don’t tell her that. She might not get it.”
“You’re not on a leash, Mort. Neither am I, in case you didn’t know. C’mon.” She got me walking again.
“So, off leash,” I said. “That include you and other guys?”
She made a face. “No, and that’s not even close to the point. The point is, if I decide I want to, it’ll be
