“What about me?”
“Ever married?”
“Just to my job.”
I tried to think of something fitting to say to that but couldn’t. I sipped the really bad coffee and almost had to spit it out. It tasted like hazelnut-flavored motor oil. I set it back down and decided to change the subject. “Work many stakeouts before?”
“Not so many.”
“How many?”
“Counting tonight?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Well. That would make one.”
I laughed a little. It felt nice.
She turned to face me. “You?”
“Lots in my early years when I was a detective in Milwaukee. I guess some people get used to them. I never really did. I’m too antsy. I hate sitting still. I always need to be doing something, solving something. I like stakeouts about as much as I like briefings.”
“But yet you volunteered for tonight.”
“Yes. I did.”
I looked out the window at Vanessa’s house. No change.
A car drove past us, and we watched its taillights shrink into the night. As they disappeared Lien-hua said, “I don’t think he’ll come.”
“Who?”
“Grolin. I don’t think he’s going to show.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah I think you might be right.” I peered at the quiet house. “So, what about you, Lien-hua. You know all about me, what’s your story?” It was an innocent question.
“Well, there’s not much to tell, I guess.” She tipped her coffee back, took a long, slow sip. “I graduated from Washington State University with a master’s degree in criminal science. Then I worked for a while as an officer in DC.”
Outside the windshield, the wind fluttered a handful of autumn leaves out of a tree above us and placed them gently onto the hood of the car.
“After a couple years, I applied at Quantico at the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime, did a two-year apprenticeship and, ta-da. Here I am.”
“Here you are,” I said. I was looking at her profile now in the dim light. The light from a nearby street lamp was slipping through the windshield and landing on her face, illuminating her chin, her lips, the gentle slope of her cheek.
She set down her cup and looked in my direction. I didn’t look away.
“It’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” she said.
No, not at all. Pretty stunning, in fact.
I caught myself. “What? Your story?”
“No, having to drink this coffee.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. Painfully bad.” I was still looking at her, but I managed to notice the wind nudge the leaves off the hood and drop them onto the road.
We both looked away from each other.
“So you climb, then?” she said.
“A little. You?”
“No, never had the chance. Mostly for me it’s kickboxing.”
“Kickboxing?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I knew it was something like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I’m not sure exactly how to say this… but…” — Oh, go ahead, just say it — “your physique, presence, the way you move. At first I figured you for either a dancer or a gymnast.”
“Physique?” She was grinning out of the side of her mouth.
Oh boy. “I meant it as a compliment.”
“You’re not supposed to notice things like that.”
I smiled. “I’m paid to notice everything.” It seemed suggestive when I heard myself say it, but I didn’t intend it that way.
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “So I’ve heard.” She located the cup resting beside her leg, lifted it, found it empty, set it back down. “You climb much?”
“Used to. I haven’t been to the crags in, well, a while.” I hesitated, because the last time I’d been climbing was with Christie. It didn’t feel right saying her name just then.
“Hmm,” she said noncommittally. “Miss it?”
“Yeah, I do. I miss her-it-I mean, yes, I do miss it. Yes.” Only too late did I realize what I’d said, too late to take it back. Thankfully, for reasons I could only guess, Lien-hua decided to ignore it. She started telling me about some of the kickboxing tournaments she’d competed in. I cracked my window open, and a rush of frigid air poured into the car. We’d been sitting here awhile. The windows had started to steam up. I hadn’t realized how cold it was getting outside. In the car it seemed warm.
“Maybe we could go climbing sometime,” I offered. “When all this is done.”
She hesitated and then answered, “Maybe. When all this is done.”
“Unless there’s someone else you…?” It was a way of asking if she had a boyfriend. She had to know it was. She had to read the subtext. She was too good at reading people not to.
She took a breath but didn’t answer. Hesitated. “There used to be,” she said at last.
A moment of quiet. There was more to the story. But I didn’t pursue it. I stared at the house again. The living room light blinked off.
55
A moment later the light in the upstairs bedroom flicked on. I saw Vanessa pacing behind the curtains, gesturing with her hand.
“She’s talking on the phone, you think?” asked Lien-hua.
“Looks like it.”
We watched her for a minute, and then the light went out. She was still in the room. Lien-hua picked up her walkie-talkie. “Subject stationary,” she said. “No intruders. Will update. Over.”
“I’m here if you need me,” Brent replied from the other end. “Over.”
I waited until she set the walkie-talkie down. “So, what else did Ralph tell you about my life?”
“Nothing much… But he didn’t have to.” She was being elusive. Slightly coy. I was beginning to wonder if she had volunteered for tonight just to be alone with me.
Oh. Wait. That’s right, I’d volunteered to be with her.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been aware of you. For a while.”
I smiled at her. “Aware of me?”
“Read your books. I heard you present a couple times at some conferences.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
She shrugged. “Never came up.”
“So what did you think?”
“About?”
“The books. The conferences.”
