Tyler’s; no fewer than two dozen people were working in open cubicles as I walked in. Most of them were on the phone. The first receptionist sent me on to a second receptionist.
The second receptionist worked in a much quieter area. The business attire was more expensive and the offices more private. This receptionist smiled and led me through a maze to a secretary, politely introduced me, and left.
This was the secretary who had made the appointment. She greeted me warmly, took my coat, and asked me if I would care for a cup of coffee. When I declined, she took me in to see Mr. Hill himself.
His office was more spacious than Corbin Tyler’s, but didn’t have much of a view. At one end of the room, the top of a credenza was loaded up with golfing trophies.
Roland Hill looked like an upgraded version of Booter Hodges. It struck me that Booter probably tried to emulate Hill’s look. He fell short of the mark. Hill was a big man, and he didn’t seem to be carrying an ounce of fat on him. His face was wrinkled in a way that made people say “has character” instead of “old.” His skin was light brown, his hair white and full. His eyes were pale blue. He was a handsome old devil, with a smile that promised you had just met the person who would become your new best friend.
“Hello, Ms. Kelly,” he said. “How are you doing?”
He had a firm handshake. He seemed perfectly at ease.
“I’m fine, Mr. Hill. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“First, please call me Roland. May I call you Irene?”
Not to be ungenerous, I nodded.
“I apologize for delaying this interview, Irene. I know it has presented a hardship for you in your work, but I had conflicting concerns. I didn’t wish to disappoint you, but I have loyalties to consider. Allan Moffett has been a terrific city manager. You understand?”
“Yes, of course, but-”
“I love Las Piernas,” he said. “Do you?”
“I’ve lived here almost all my life, Mr. Hill.”
“Roland, please. Well, yes, but do you love it? Do you want it to thrive as a community, or wither and die?”
“Mr. Hill-”
“-Roland-I want to see it thrive. I want it to grow-in all the best ways. It takes a certain amount of vision on the part of the citizens of this community to ensure that happens. Allan had vision. That’s why we were at the restaurant that night. To pay homage to a man of vision.”
“Has Mr. Moffett mentioned to you his reasons for abandoning that vision so abruptly?”
“Is that what you’d call it?”
“You must admit that Allan Moffett’s resignation was unexpected.”
“Only by those who don’t know him well. Those of us who do are aware that Allan has grown weary of the tremendous burden of that office.”
“You’re saying you were expecting this announcement?”
“Absolutely. Oh, perhaps not right down to the hour and the day, but I knew it was coming, Irene.”
“Roland, let’s be honest with one another. If you weren’t surprised by Allan Moffett’s resignation, you knew more about the city manger’s office than the mayor himself.”
He smiled. “Entirely possible.”
“Which brings me to another set of questions,” I said quickly. “Have you received a photocopy-”
“-of myself and a group of other individuals going out on Ben Watterson’s boat for a pleasant day of fishing? Yes, ma’am, I have.”
I couldn’t quite hide my surprise, and he grinned.
“I’m hoping you can explain that to me, Irene,” he added.
“Me?”
“Yes, word is, you’ve discovered who sent the photo and why he sent it. He came by here one day, but my receptionist turned him away. From what she told me about him, I gather he was some crazy bum.”
“No. A man who worked on studies that you profited from.”
“Really?” he said, unperturbed.
“Really.”
“Well, Irene, if that’s the case, I should thank him for that, and for reminding me of happier days with Ben.”
I thought of asking him what he knew of Ben’s suicide, but decided I couldn’t bear to hear the sunshine version. I was already annoyed with his salesman’s tricks-using my first name constantly and asking more questions than he answered. “You certainly accentuate the positive, Roland.”
“I’m not one of those people who will tell you that a positive attitude is all that’s required, Irene. Hard work and remaining aware of your customer’s needs are also important, don’t you think?”
“Would you happen to know where I can find Nadine Preston these days?”
“I’m sorry, Irene, I can’t. I really had no reason to think about her until that photograph arrived. I only met her a few times, many years ago, when she was dating Andre Selman.”
“And you remember the name of one of Andre’s dates? That’s remarkable.”
He smiled. “I understand your point. I do have a good memory; it has allowed me certain advantages in business. But Nadine also worked with Andre Selman. That’s why I remember her.”
“Her, and not the man who became-what did you call him? ‘A crazy bum,’ I believe?”
He shrugged. “I vaguely remember Andre’s first assistant. He joined us on one or two of the fishing trips. But of course, his appearance was quite different then.”
“I thought you said you didn’t see him. That your receptionist turned him away.”
“I didn’t. I should have said that his appearance, as it was described to me, would not have led me to make the connection.”
I stayed there for another half hour, mainly just to irritate him. I had already figured out that he was not going to give me a straight answer on anything. I think he started to realize what I was up to, and I saw the first little crack in the happy armor. Nothing verbal, just his eyes. Not anger, not frustration. Emptiness.
I asked for my coat and left.
In the parking garage, I opened the trunk of the Karmann Ghia, half afraid I’d find it empty. The binders were still there, along with the usual items I stored there. I moved the binders into the front seat, and headed back to the paper.
By the time I got back to the parking lot of the
From the corner of my eye, as I fumbled with the binders in one hand and the car keys in the other, I caught a splash of color moving nearby. I glanced back and dropped my keys. Two Toes was standing not six feet away from me.
25
YOU CAN SEE ME!”he said, seeming as surprised as I was. I nodded. Alone in an alley with the man Frank had warned me about, who had bruised-if not killed-Lucas. Not good.
“That’s because I chose to appear!” He stabbed a finger in my direction. “Why’d you call the cops on me?”
“I didn’t call the cops on you!” I realized I was squeaking. I thought again of some of the self-defense moves Rachel had taught me, but none of my extremely rudimentary training covered what to do when your arms were full of binders and your keys were on the ground in front of you. But acting panicked could not improve the
