“Dame?”
“And,” I went on, “if Sophie was just blowing smoke to keep my hand on her tit, then checking out Julia might not be dangerous or productive. Either way, it can wait, so we don’t call Jeri.”
“You had your hands on the chickadee’s tits?”
“One hand, the right—so only one tit, the left. And you’re picking up on the most insignificant details here, Ma.”
“Tits are insignificant? I can see why Jeri trusts you. Raises a few other questions though.” She looked at me with one eye.
Jesus H. Christ. Women.
“Gifting,” I said, breaking a twenty-minute silence. The word was giving me fits.
“Uh-huh. Speaking of insignificant details.”
We were thirty miles south of Bend, roaring south at fifty miles an hour. Every hour that passed, we went fifty whole miles, by God. I was thinking Chariots of Fire.
“Doesn’t feel insignificant to me,” I said.
She shrugged. “If I had some hot guy gifted to me, even if all I could do is look, you wouldn’t hear me complaining about it, boyo. Been a long goddamn time since I’ve seen a guy buck naked.” She gave me a challenging look. “Think I’m too old to care?”
“Not even close, Ma. But this thing with Jeri and Holiday has me spinning in circles.”
“Christ, I haven’t heard a guy whine so much in forever.”
“You’re no help.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try. It’s like gettin’ through a brick wall.”
So I shut up.
To Reno from Bend via Gerlach was some four hundred fifty miles. We left Bend at nine twenty, keeping an eye out for a white Mercedes SUV. With a stop in Lakeview for lunch, a quick bite in Gerlach, we pulled into Reno at eight forty-five p.m., full dark, nine hours on the road, so there was another day shot. Ma phoned Jeri from Gerlach, gave her an update on our progress as we neared Fernley, then called again as we reached the eastern edge of Sparks.
I parked the Caddy at Ma’s place. Jeri was already there in her Porsche, waiting for us.
“Learn anything useful?” Jeri asked.
“You tell her,” Ma said to me. “I’m beat. Anyway, you’re the one that got the chickadee hot an’ talking. Be sure to tell her about that window thing, too. If you don’t, I will.”
“Chickadee?” Jeri asked. “Hot? Window thing?”
“Thanks, Ma,” I said. “I owe you one.”
Ma waved and went into the house. I smiled at Jeri. “I am a gumshoe like no other.”
“I believe that. What’d you do this time?”
“I’m hungry. How about we go home, get something to eat, and I’ll tell you about it?”
“How about we go to the Golden Goose where Sarah’s waiting for us? You can choose the restaurant, how’s that?”
“Is that Sarah or Holiday?”
“She didn’t say. We’ll see how she’s dressed.”
We stopped by Jeri’s place first. I took a five-minute shower to freshen up. Jeri took a five-minute shower at the same time, which, as luck would have it, made it easier to get my back scrubbed. Then there was another ten-minute delay caused by the shower delay, then another quick freshen-up splash in the shower, then we got dressed. Jeri wore tight pants that hugged her butt nicely, and a tight top that hugged the rest of her. Damn, she looked good.
When we walked into the Green Room, Jeri and I looked at each other and said, “Holiday,” at the same time.
She was sitting at the bar with a guy in his thirties, showing two inches of tight tanned tummy in a shimmery two-piece outfit. The lower part was a skirt that ended above mid-thigh; the top revealed as much as it concealed. She slid off the stool when she saw us, and she and Jeri hugged again. Buddies.
“Mort found something,” Jeri said.
“Yeah? What?”
“We should hit a restaurant first,” I said.
Holiday said good-bye to Ryan, no last name, thanked him for the drink, then we left. Ryan, NLN, watched us go out the door. He gave me a look that said I was a selfish son of a bitch, for which I didn’t blame him, but some of us are gumshoes, and some of us aren’t.
We settled for a light meal in a coffee shop. Over a burger and fries I told them about Bend, the body shop, the white paint job on the green SUV, then the Evergreen and Sophie and someone’s hand on what prudes and malcontents might say was an oversized boob. Then the boob in the bathroom, escaping through the window, and Sophie in the alley calling me a shithead, a moment I will hold dear in my heart until the day I die.
“Jesus, Mort,” Jeri said. “But Ma said you found something up there and it wasn’t some girl’s breasts, so what was it?”
“Oh, that, yeah. Slipped my mind. Just that there’s a good chance the SUV we’ve been looking for is being driven by Julia Reinhart.”
Jeri and Holiday stared at me. I checked my forehead, worried that I’d grown a third eye, which would’ve put a damper on the evening.
I had the burger headed toward my mouth when Jeri grabbed my arm and set it down for me—slammed my arm down would be more accurate. Christ, she was strong.
“You twerp. You went on about some girl’s tits and waited all this time to tell me—us—that little informational gem?”
“Twerp?”
She was beautiful, and her face was a study in exasperation. “That’s like shithead, only I can say it a lot louder in public.”
“Well, I had to get in an informational mood, dear heart.”
“The shower forty minutes ago didn’t put you in the mood?”
“That mood was entirely different. It wasn’t informational and nutritional, like this one.” I held up a French fry. “It’s important not to confuse the two.”
Holiday hid a smile. Jeri sat back and stared at me. Finally, she said, “Okay, twerp, tell us about Julia Reinhart.”
“There isn’t much to tell. She was on TV in the bar and Sophie said the lady who stayed at the motel looked just like her.”
Jeri
