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Cherokee spotless, as well as his condo, his weapons, his clothes, and his person. Pike found peace in order, and did not understand how Cole could drive a dirty car. Cleanliness was order, and order was control. Pike had spent most of his life trying to maintain control.
ELVIS COLE
The jacaranda trees that lined Lucy's street were lit by lamps that were old and yellow with age. The air was colder than in Hollywood, and rich with the scent of jasmine. Pike was watching, but I could not see him and did not try. Fontenot was easy to make, hunched in a car up the block like Boris Badenov pretending to be Sam Spade. I guess Richard wanted someone watching out for Lucy, too.
I climbed the stairs and knocked twice at her door, soft. I could have used my key, but that seemed more confident than I felt.
'It's me.'
The deadbolt turned with a quiet slap.
Lucy answered in a white terry robe. Her hair was damp and combed back. She always looked good that
way, even with her face dosed and unsmiling. She said, 'They kept you a long time.' 'We had a lot to talk about.'
She stepped back to let me in, then closed and locked the door. She was holding her cordless phone. The television was running something about vegetarians with brittle bones. She turned it off, then went to the diningroom table, all without looking at me, just as she hadn't looked at me when she left Gittamon's office.
I said, 'I want to talk to you about this.'
'I know. Would you like some coffee? It's not fresh,
but I have hot water and Taster's Choice.'
'No, I'm okay.'
She put the phone on the table, but kept her hand on it. She looked at the phone.
'I've been sitting here with this phone. Ever since I got home I've been scared to put it down. They set up one of those trap things on my phone in case he calls again, but I don't know. They said I could make calls like normal, and not to worry about it. Ha. Like normal.'
I guess staring at the phone was easier than looking at me. I covered her hand with mine.
'Luce, what he said, those things aren't true. Nothing like that happened, none of it.'
'The man on the tape or Richard? You don't have to say this. I know you couldn't do anything like that.'
'We didn't murder people. We weren't criminals.' 'I know. I know that.' 'What Richard said--' 'Shh. '
Her eyes flashed hard, and the shh was a command.
'I don't want you to explain. I've never asked before,
and you've never told me, so don't tell me now.' 'Lucy--'
'Don't. I don't care.'
'Luce--'
'I've heard you and Joe talk. I've seen what you keep in that cigar box. Those are your things to know, not mine, I understand that, like old lovers and the stupid
things we do when we're kids--'
'I wasn't hiding anything.'
'--I thought, he'll tell me if he needs to, but now it all seems so much more important than that--'
'I wasn't keeping secrets. Some things are better left
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behind, that's all, you move past and go on. That's what I've tried to do, and not just about the war.' She slipped her hand from under mine, and sat back. 'What Richard did tonight, that was unforgivable, having you investigated. I apologize. The way he dropped that folder on the table--' 'I got into some trouble when I was a kid. It wasn't horrendous. I wasn't hiding it from you.' She shook her head to quiet me and lifted the phone in both hands as if it was an object of study. 'I've been holding onto this goddamned phone so tight that I can't feel my hand, wondering whethe I'll ever see my baby again, and I thought if only I could force myself into the mouthpiece through these little holes and come out on the other end of the line--' She stiffened with a tension that made her seem brittle. I leaned toward her, wanting to touch her, but she drew back. '--to get my baby; I saw myself doing it the way you see yourself in a dream, and when I squeezed out of the phone at the other end, Ben was in a nice warm bed, safe and sleeping, this beautiful peaceful ten-year-old face, so peaceful that I didn't want to wake him. I watched his beautiful face and tried to imagine what you looked like when you were his age--' She looked up with a sadness that seemed painful. '--but I couldn't. I've never seen a childhood picture of you. You never mention your family, or where you're from, or any of that except for the jokes you'll make. You know, I tease you about Joe, how he never talks, Mr. Stone face, but you don't say any more than him, not about the things that matter, and I find that so strange. I guess you moved on.' 'My family wasn't exactly normal, Luce--' 'I don't want you to tell me.'
'--my grandpa raised me, mostly, my grandfather and
my aunt, and sometimes I didn't have anyone--' 'Your secrets are your own.'
'They're not secrets. When I was with my mother, we moved a lot. I needed rules, and there weren't any rules. I wanted friends, but I didn't have any because of the goofy way we lived, so I made some bad choices and got in with bad kids--'
