I was pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of the hospital when Dave drove up with Scott in the car. We all sort of milled aimlessly around in the parking lot for a while, struck suddenly dumb and shy by all the important things that needed saying but couldn't quite be said. I made my good-byes and took off before Karen came outside. I no longer trusted my ability to keep a civil tongue in my mouth.
With Alex off shopping in Medford and with Amber safely under control, I found myself at loose ends. I didn't have anything special in mind as I drove over to the Ashland Hills looking for Ralph Ames. My expectation was that the two of us would do some of what today's young people call 'hanging out.'
When I knocked, Ralph came to the door with a cellular phone stuck to his ear, held there by a shoulder to free up his hands for a yellow tablet and pen. I saw at once that hanging out was out of the question. Ralph was far too busy.
In a mad frenzy of activity, he had created the most technologically up-to-date, instant hotel-room office imaginable. His portable fax was hooked up and running, ringing and groaning as it coughed out sheet after sheet of burned-smelling, heat-sensitive paper. Ralph himself was hard at work transferring notes from the yellow tablet to his handy-dandy laptop computer. Periodically, he would have to lunge over to the wall and disconnect the fax from the phone jack in order to use the modem on his computer.
'How did people ever function with only one telephone line?' he demanded irritably over his shoulder when a harried receptionist somewhere left him sitting on hold.
'This may come as a shock to you, Ralph, but people actually survived on this planet before there were any phones at all,' I told him. 'How much good does all this high-tech stuff do, anyway?'
'Not much so far,' he conceded, 'but I'm just starting. What gives with you?'
Ralph carried on his part of the conversation, asking and answering questions, without ever taking his eyes off the glowing computer screen. He reminded me of one of those weirded-out videogame addicts. I probably should have taken the hint and left him to his work, but I was feeling nervous and anxious for some reason. I didn't much want to be alone. In that frame of mind, distracted and preoccupied company was better than no company at all.
'Karen, Scott, and Dave just left,' I said forlornly.
'I know,' Ralph returned. 'I was here when Dave picked Scott up. He was staying with me, remember?'
I had somehow forgotten that detail. 'Scott's in summer school now,' I continued. 'Dave probably has to get back to work. I can understand that. What I can't fathom is why Karen couldn't stay on any longer to help out. It wouldn't kill her to bend a little bit now and then.'
'Maybe she had something important to do back home,' Ralph suggested.
'Sure she did,' I agreed sarcastically. 'What's more important than being here when her daughter needs her? How about taking care of her only grandchild when her only daughter is damn near at death's door? What's more important than that? A hot bridge game? Maybe a tennis tournament?'
Ralph's fingers paused over the keyboard while he looked me full in the face. 'Are we feeling a little testy today?'
'I guess.'
'What's eating you?'
'Everything and nothing.' Ralph kept looking at me, but his fingers started moving again, speeding over the keyboard with incredible dexterity without his having to look at either the screen or the keys. Ames is now and always will be a far better typist than I am.
'By the way,' I added. 'I talked to Ron Peters in Seattle today.'
Ralph's nimble fingers never missed a stroke. 'What did he have to say?'
'I'm in some kind of hot water as per usual. Fraymore sent an official letter of complaint to Seattle P.D. in regard to my continued interference with his homicide investigation. Tony Freeman in I.I.D. handed the problem over to Ron.'
Ames shook his head. 'That was fast. Fraymore must have written it and faxed it overnight. I had a feeling our behavior was offending the local constabulary. Don't feel picked on, Beau. Gordon Fraymore would complain about me, too, if he could just figure out where to send the paper.'
Somehow, knowing I wasn't the only target for Fraymore's ire did make me feel a little better.
'I take it you've had your hands slapped?' Ralph asked.
'Officially, yes. Peters passed along Tony Freeman's verbal message, which was, ‘You're on vacation. Act like it.''
'And unofficially?'
'Ron's going to dig around up there in Seattle and see what, if anything, he can find out that might be of help.'
'I've always liked Ron Peters,' Ralph said. A moment later, he paused in his typing and frowned. 'What are you up to today?'
'Not much. I guess I'll hang out at the hospital. Worry.'
'I've got some legwork that needs doing, but I don't want you to wind up in any more trouble.'
'Legwork's something I'm good at. If you've got something for me to do that will keep me occupied, let me at it. We'll worry about trouble later.'
'You're sure?'
'What kind of legwork?' I returned.
Ralph reached over and shuffled through an already impressive stack of rolled-up fax-generated paper. Pulling out one sheet, he handed it to me. 'I don't have time to chase this down myself. It's going to take all morning to prepare for the arraignment. On the other hand, I don't see how Fraymore could possibly object to your doing this, since it has nothing whatsoever to do with the murder investigation, per se.' He paused and then added, 'It may end up having some bearing on our defense, however.'
Glancing down at the paper, I was riveted by what I saw there-the names Roger and Willy Tompkins, along with a street address in Walla Walla.
'You want me to go see them?'
Ralph nodded.
'To talk to them, or to punch that guy's lights out?'
'Talk,' Ralph said. 'Definitely nothing but talk. We've got to learn whether or not these people will try to make any kind of trouble when it comes to sorting out long-term custody arrangements for Amber. If they'll be reasonable, so will we. If they try to make things difficult, I'll blow them clean out of the water.'
'Long-term custody?' I asked. 'That sounds like you think we'll lose and that you've already given up.'
'We have to be prepared for every contingency,' he returned darkly. Ralph Ames is not a man prone to discouraging words. Clearly, things weren't going well.
'Fraymore's evidence is that solid?'
Ralph nodded. 'It's solid all right. And there's no reason for him to lie to me about it.'
'Have you given any thought to the possibility that we might be dealing with a carefully planned, well- thought-out frame?'
'Frame?' Ralph repeated.
'I spent all night thinking about it, and I talked it over with Ron. There's something about this whole thing that doesn't ring true. It's too pat.'
'You think Fraymore's crooked?'
'No. I didn't say that. Misguided, maybe. Overzealous, perhaps. What if he's being suckered by somebody else?'
'All I can say is that somebody went to a hell of a lot of trouble,' Ralph replied.
'But wouldn't you?' I asked. 'If you wanted to get away with murder, you'd do whatever was necessary.'
We were both quiet for a few moments. Finally, Ralph shook his head. He wasn't buying it. Tired of arguing, I let it go.
'How's Tanya holding up?' I asked finally.
'All right, except…'
'Except what?'
Ames shook his head. 'It's hard to explain. I can't quite put my finger on it. She seems almost drifty and vague at times, as though she can't quite grasp the reality of all this, as if it isn't quite getting through. Other times
