“Yeah. And all they did was feed her a taco and kill her. I don’t know. Maybe when she arrived here in June, she never even got together with the guy who got her pregnant. Maybe some homicidal maniac got to her before she even met up with the guy again.”
“Oh sure, a homicidal maniac. After all that’s happened, you can’t possibly believe that. There’s got to be a connection — Elaine Tannehill’s murder would be proof enough.”
“You’re right. There is a connection. I just can’t figure out who’s holding the other end.”
“Well, let’s think about it. She got pregnant in March or April.”
We sat and thought.
“Spring break,” I said at last. “Andrew Hollingsworth could have spent his spring break in Phoenix.”
“Right! And Longren could have come up with some reason to be in Phoenix for a few days, too. He was already on the council then, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. I’ll check the microfilm for March and April of 1955. Maybe it will mention some trip.” I was excited again. If I could place either one of them in Phoenix during the time Jennifer would have become pregnant, I would have gone a long way toward building a case for at least linking them to all that had been going on.
“Have you talked to Frank about any of this?” Lydia asked.
“Sore subject.”
“You two fight?”
“No, I was just real bitchy to him. You know what I need, Lydia? A nap. I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.”
“Probably a good idea. But think about catching him up on all of this. I still worry that someone is after you, and I’d like the police to get to the killer before he gets to you.”
I yawned and nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to Frank.” I went back into the bedroom and peeled off my clothes. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I WOKE UP in darkness. I was completely disoriented for a few minutes. Cody walked up to my face and nuzzled me, and I felt a little calmer. I looked over at the clock radio. Nine o’clock. I had slept over six hours. I wondered how much that was going to screw up my sleep patterns.
I sat up and stretched. I went out into the living room. Lydia was gone, but there was a note saying she was going to meet Kevin Malloy and some reporters from the
I fidgeted around for a while and finally picked up the phone and called Frank. We did our now routine exchange of last names.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“An apology. Sorry about this afternoon. I’ve had some sleep now, so I can probably talk to you without biting your head off.”
“You had a rough morning.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t excuse my bad manners. Anyway, I apologize.”
“Well, I’ve had some sleep myself. I knocked off not long after you left.”
“Think you’ll be up for a while?” I asked.
“All night, I’m afraid. And I’ve got to report in tomorrow.”
“I’m in the same boat. If we don’t make too late an evening of it, want to go out for a drink somewhere?”
“Sure — how about the Stowaway?”
The Stowaway is a small, quiet, and casual bar that has a terrific ocean view. It’s not a place to go if you’re in a rowdy mood or up for anything fancy, which suited me fine.
“Sounds great,” I said. “You want me to drive?”
“I’ll come by for you. I don’t think I can handle the Karmann Ghia until my ribs heal a little more.”
“Give me about half an hour.”
I ran in and took a quick shower to wake myself up and changed into my favorite pair of jeans and a white blouse. I was just putting on my sandals when the doorbell rang.
Frank was wearing shorts again, and we spent a moment looking each other over. Cody came up to the entryway and gave him a yowl of greeting.
“Hey, there, Cody.” He picked the big lug up and scratched him affectionately.
“You’re brave,” I said, noticing that he still had a thin line on his face where Cody had dug the deepest.
“So is Cody. I’m glad to see he’s not afraid of me.”
He set Cody down gently and we made our way out the door.
We drove in silence to the Stowaway. The bar is dark and plain on the inside, no attempt to compete with the scenery outside its one wall of long windows. It was built on three levels, so that anywhere you sat, you had an unobstructed view of the water.
They weren’t crowded, so we were able to sit next to one of the windows, on the lowest level. Frank went up to the bar and brought back a Myers’s and OJ for me, a beer for himself. We watched the waves rolling in on the moonlit beach below.
I drank about half my drink while he sipped at the beer.
