A matter of time

'Not really. She's just not sure of herself. You remember how she was when she first came here? Quiet, goosey?'

'Still is with most of us. Got to whack her up side the head just to get her to say hi. Except you. You she treats almost normal. Guess maybe because you're a safe old father figure.'

All I need, Cash thought. Another part-time kid.

'You know her number?'

'Huh? That's the best-kept secret since the atom bomb. Why?'

'She says to call her.'

'Then you must have it somewhere.'

'Not that I know of. Maybe it's in the book.'

He looked it up. Sure enough.

She had just gotten home. She begged five minutes for a shower.

'God, I'm a rotten old bastard,' Cash told her when she arrived. He was feeling loose. Hank had gone out after more beer. 'I saved you a Coke, though. And dinner when you're done. All right?'

'Getting pretty feisty for an old man, aren't you?' John asked. 'I mean, hustling young girls…' Beth blushed, stared at the floor, then tried to cover by searching for pen and dictation pad.

'I already called Annie and told her,' Cash responded defensively. Annie hadn't liked the idea, even when he had invited her to go along. She had refused on grounds that Nancy might need her.

'Some other time?' Beth asked. 'I think everybody's down there now. They all got here early. Guess they want to get it over with.'

As they descended the stairs, Beth observed, 'Everybody was so cooperative, we probably ought to call the whole thing off.'

'I'll buy that,' said John.

'You know we've got to go the whole route, John. Step by step. When I'm done there ain't going to be a hole big enough for a roach to crawl through.'

'You're just painting yourself into a corner.'

'Beth! Who are all these people?'

'Reporting officers. Evidence technicians. Ambulance driver and attendant. Emergency room staff. People from the coroner's office. From the morgue.'

'Jesus.'

Twenty bewildered pairs of eyes watched the polygraph operator set up his equipment. Hank Railsback leaned against the wall in a shadowed corner, an amused smile playing across his lips as he listened to the captain.

'What kind of story did you feed them, woman?'

Beth just blushed and studied the floor.

'Uh-huh. A line of bullshit.'

It was eleven-fifteen before they finished.

John was right. Beth was right.

Nothing.

Nursing a headache, Cash watched the polygraph operator pack his gear. Beth kept flexing fingers sore from gripping a pen. John, and everyone else who could, had taken off long since.

'Too bad Hank didn't stick around. But he hates to see his brain-children stillborn.'

Beth moved behind him, began kneading his shoulder muscles. It startled him, but felt so nice he didn't ask her to stop.

'Where do you want to eat?'

Her grip tightened. She started to say something, choked on it. Her fingers quivered. 'I still think I should take a rain-check. We've got to be back in here at eight.'

'Yeah. Right. Well, I'll walk you to your car.'

Leaning in her window, he said, 'Thanks again. I really don't know what I'd do without you, Beth. You shouldn't put up with the crap I dump on you. That we all do.'

'I don't mind. For you. At least you… Well, you know. You're nice about it. I'd better go.'

'Sure. Thanks again. Bye.'

He thought about Beth all the way home.

More and more, he suspected something was happening. It was flattering, tempting, and terrifying. If he formally recognized the condition at all, there would be pain and trouble no matter what course he followed. The wise thing, he supposed, would be to cool it by completely ignoring it. That would minimize the potential for pain.

Annie had fallen asleep watching Johnny Carson and rereading MacDonald's The Girl in the Plain Brown Wrapper. He wriggled himself a seat and gently woke her, presented the books he had picked up downtown.