on the tip, she said, “Big spender, think you can afford it?”
“ You’re wasting your time,” a high squeaky voice said. Washington placed the voice with the Weasel. “He’s heard it all before and he doesn’t care.” He laughed.
“ Please, don’t bother coming back,” she said.
“ Lady,” Kohler said, “you do your job and I’ll do mine. If you don’t like it, I can always talk to the manager.”
“ You’re looking at her, and like I said, please don’t bother coming back.” Hugh glanced up. Her jaw was set tight. Her right hand was balled into a fist, the knuckles white. She was rubbing the thumb against the index finger, hard, chasing the blood away. She looked like she wanted to belt Kohler. Washington figured that Kohler got that reaction from a lot of people.
“ Then I will go to the owner,” Kohler said.
“ You’re looking at her too. And it still goes. Don’t come back.”
“ It’s your loss.” Kohler got up. Hugh pressed his face further in the menu as the doctor stormed by, followed by Mrs. Monday, the Weasel and Stupid.
After they left the waitress turned to Washington. “You look like you didn’t want that asshole to see you.”
“ You don’t miss much.”
“ No I don’t, Hugh.” At the sound of his name he looked up into the big woman’s smile.
“ I know you,” he said.
“ You better, you bastard.” She broke out into a laughing smile, showing lots of teeth.
“ Four Eyes,” he said. Now he was laughing. “You’re Susan Spencer.”
“ I never really liked that name,” she said.
“ And I liked Metal Mouth?” he grinned back at her.
“ I guess I was pretty cruel to you boys, you little wimp.” She laughed.
“ Not so little any more,” he said. “And we deserved it, always making Johnny’s big sister and her friends miserable. We really loved tormenting you guys.”
“ And we kind of liked it. Little boys chasing after us. It was cute.” She lost her smile for a minute. “Seeing you here like this reminds me of Johnny. I haven’t thought about him in a long time. When I first heard he was killed, I blamed myself. I thought that if I’d have been a better sister, understood him more, maybe he would’ve stayed in school. It was years before I figured out it was just the times. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the war. He chose war. Karma. There was nothing anyone could do.”
He saw a gecko dart across the floor and was reminded of the one he’d seen in the hospital. And the talk of a dead friend brought Walker to mind. Something wasn’t right. He hadn’t been hurt that bad. He shouldn’t have died.
“ Look, I have to go. I’ll come by before I leave town.”
“ You’re a policeman now, I hear.”
“ That’s right and if you’ll excuse me,” he said, sliding out of his seat, “right now, I’m trying to figure out a way to put that German son of a bitch away for a long time.”
“ I wish you luck.” She gave him a great bear hug. “If you need anything while you’re here, you call me.”
“ Count on it,” he said and then he left.
He hurried across the street, oblivious to the gray Mercedes still in the parking lot, but even if he’d seen it, he wouldn’t have been able to see Kohler’s hate filled eyes staring at him through the dark tinted glass.
Back in his hotel room, he called the information operator in Orange County and got the number for Hope Hospital. He asked for Patti Hamilton and was put on hold. After a long wait, which he occupied by pacing the room with the phone at his ear, she came on the line.
“ This is Patti Hamilton.” She sounded as pretty as she looked in the hospital.
“ This is Hugh Washington. Do you remember me?” He crossed his fingers.
“ Of course I remember you, Hugh Washington,” she said. “How did you know my name?”
“ Are you still wearing that name tag?”
“ Oh yeah,” she laughed. Then her voice dropped as she changed from light banter to deep concern. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“ That’s why I called. I saw another of those geckos and was reminded about the one I saw in the hospital and I got to thinking there was something funny about Ron dying like that. He seemed pretty healthy to me.”
“ They didn’t tell you?” He heard her gasp.
“ Tell me what?” His hand tightened on the phone.
“ You’re friend was murdered.”
“ Murdered?” He knew something wasn’t right. But he hadn’t suspected murder.
“ And not just murdered,” she said, her voice cracking. “He was torn apart. Ripped to pieces. I was the one who found him. It was horrible. It was like some big animal tore into him. The walls were covered in blood. It was even on the ceiling. They’re trying to keep it quiet, but I figured you would know. You were his partner.” There was a long silence between them. Then she said, “And you know what else? Just before I went into that room, just before I found him, one of those geckos came running under the door, tearing out of that room like it knew what was inside. It scared the holy bejesus out of me.”
He saw movement across the room, on the ceiling. He looked up and it stopped and sat there, mocking him. A small green gecko, on the ceiling, upside down. Still.
“ Shit,” he whispered into the phone. “I gotta go. There’s one on my ceiling, right above my head.” He hung up the phone leaving her wondering and worrying.
“ Glenna, dear Glenna,” he said, as he made his way toward the door. He felt foolish. They were harmless, but still they were out of place here. He eased the door open and stepped out into the parking lot. He unlocked the Chevy, got in and relocked the door, started it and drove off into the night, hoping that Glenna was okay and that there were no geckos wherever she was.
Chapter Fifteen
Glenna shivered in her sleep. She was cold and she had to go to the bathroom. She hated getting up at night, getting out from under the warm blankets, leaving a friendly dream. When she was a little girl and wanted the light off, she would lay in bed and wish her father into the room. He usually came, but when she had to pee, no amount of wishing in the world could make it go away. She just had to get up and take care of it herself.
She reached for the blanket. She didn’t have to go that bad. She would wait a while longer. She wanted to sink back down to that wonderful place in the sun. She was reliving a vacation in Honolulu with her parents. She loved the beach, the night life, the Hawaiian attitude, but most of all, she loved the hot climate. She shivered again and moved her hand farther down, looking for the covers, but they weren’t there.
She opened her eyes. Just for a peek. She wasn’t in bed. Not safe at home. She was cold. She had to pee. She was in the cemetery.
The dark clouds were gone and the moonlight dancing off the tombstones made them appear ghostly and forbidding. She was laying across a grave, facing a silvery slab. John Thomas Tanaka, Taken by accident on his fifteenth birthday, August 1, 1959, Walking in a Better Place, she read, and her heart went out to him. Fifteen. He hadn’t even started to live. Were you a good boy, John Tanaka? Did your parents call you Johnny? She noticed the fresh flowers and wondered about such devotion after all this time.
She touched her forehead and winced. She was already getting a welt. How long had she been asleep. Not asleep, the thought assaulted her, she had passed out. She turned away from John Tanaka’s tombstone, toward the gap in the fence, expecting to see those glowing yellow eyes, but the slimy lizard thing was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief.
She felt the cool wetness between her legs and she shivered again. She wanted to get up and pee. She wanted a dry pair of pants, but they were in one of the laundry bags on the other side of the fence, behind the garage. No way was she going back through that gap. I’m going to stay right here with you, Johnny Tanaka. Safe in your arms. I’m not moving till Jim Monday comes through that fence. And like when she was a little girl, she wished
