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We sat and stared at each other while I digested the information. Finally, I said, “I appreciate your candor. At the moment, I can’t think what other ground we need to cover. I may have questions for you later on.”
“I understand,” he said. “All I ask is you’ll keep an open mind.”
“I’ll do that,” I said. “And if further questions come up, I hope I can talk to you again.”
“Of course.”
8
After I left the church parking lot, I found a quiet side street and pulled over to the curb. I shut off the engine and took out a handful of index cards, jotting down what I remembered about the conversation. During interviews early in my career, I tried using a tape recorder, but the process was awkward. It made some people self-conscious, and both of us tended to watch the tape reel going around and around, assuring each other the device was working. Sometimes a reel came to an end and clicked off while the interviewee was in the middle of a sentence. I’d have to turn the tape over and then backtrack, which was off-putting to say the least. Transcribing a tape afterward was a pain in the rear because the sound quality was often poor and the ambient noise made some of it impossible to hear. Taking notes in longhand was just as distracting. I finally gave up and started winging it, quieting the chatter in my brain so I could hear what was being said. My memory has improved to the point where I can remember the bulk of an interview, but I still find it helpful to nail down the details while they’re fresh in my mind. Over time, a portion of any recollection fades, and while I might remember the gist, it’s the minutia that sometimes makes all the difference.
Cynic that I am, I did wonder if Foley had quit drinking because he was afraid alcohol would one day loosen his tongue, tricking him into saying something he shouldn’t. For the same reason, I questioned his reasons for the lack of an intimate relationship since Violet had disappeared. Guilt produces a loneliness of its own. The temptation to confide has to be overwhelming at times. His suffering had been intense, but he’d never sought solace, or so he claimed.
I looked at the map again, noting the distance between the service station where Violet had filled her tank, the park in Silas, and the Sullivan’s house. Must have been fifteen or twenty miles from point to point. It was possible, I supposed, that Violet had bought gas and then driven home, in which case she might well have been there when Foley returned. If that were the case, surely the babysitter would have said so. I put a rubber band around my fat stack of cards, then fired up the engine, put the car in gear, and headed for home.
As I was unlocking my front door, Henry emerged from his kitchen and locked the door behind him. He was looking very spiffy for a guy who favors shorts and flip-flops. He waved and I waited while he crossed the patio. It was close to cocktail hour and I figured he was on his way to Rosie’s. “Actually, I’m driving down to Olvidado to take Charlotte to the movies. We’ll catch the five-o’clock show and have di
“Sounds like fun. What are you seeing?”
“No Way Out with that actor, Kevin Costner. You think this is okay?” He held his arms out, asking me to make a judgment about his slacks and collared T-shirt.
“You look fine.”
“Thanks. What are you up to?”
“I’m on a job up in the Santa Maria area. I’ll be driving back and forth, but I don’t want you to worry if you don’t see me for a couple of days. You better get a move on. Traffic’s tricky at this hour.”
I watched him cross to his two-car garage, pausing long enough to see which car he took. His pride and joy is a 1932 Chevrolet, the five-window coupe, painted bright yellow. His other car is a workaday station wagon, which is serviceable but no great shakes. He backed down the drive in the vintage Chevy, waving at me as he disappeared from sight.
Once in my apartment, I dropped my shoulder bag on a kitchen stool and went through my usual ritual of phone messages and mail. Cheney had called to say hi and he’d catch me later. Mail was boring. When I peered into the refrigerator, the sight that greeted me was no big surprise. The contents consisted of condiments-mustard, pickles, olives, and a jar of jalapenos-a stick of butter, a head of browning lettuce, and a six-pack of Diet Pepsi. I hadn’t been to the grocery store for days, which meant I’d either have to make a supermarket run or eat out again. While I debated, I returned Cheney’s call. I knew he’d be gone, but I left a lengthy message, telling him what I was up to. I wasn’t sure what my schedule would look like after tomorrow, but I said I’d be in touch. Already this was feeling like the same sort of absentee relationship I’d had with Robert Dietz. How do I get myself into these situations with men?
I was halfway to Rosie’s, less than thrilled with the prospect, when I thought about Sneaky Pete’s. I knew Ta
Sneaky Pete’s is a neighborhood hangout, serving a loyal clientele in much the way Rosie’s does. Ta
She returned to the bar and took out a wineglass and a bottle of Edna Valley, saying, “You drink Chardo
“Good memory.”
“That’s my job. Daisy says the three of us are having lunch tomorrow.”
“That’s the plan. I told her I’d call her as soon as I’m free. What time are you driving up?”
“I’m not sure yet, but early. I’ll find out where you’re going and I’ll meet you there.” She poured my wine and then picked up her cigarette and took one last drag before she stubbed it out. “One of these days I’ll quit. Working here, you have to smoke in self-defense. So how goes the battle? Daisy says you’re already hard at work.”
“Well, I’m doing what I can. She drove me around the area so I could get the lay of the land. Serena Station’s depressing.”
“Isn’t it,” she said. “You meet Foley?”
“I spoke to that retired sheriff’s department sergeant first and then to him.”
“That must have been intense.”
“Very,” I said. I took a sip of my wine. “You didn’t tell me you had a house up there. Daisy took me by yesterday afternoon so I could see. Too bad about the fire.”
“We’re lucky they caught it when they did or the house would be gone. We’ve got a deputy patrolling now to keep the riffraff out. My brother hates the place.”
“Daisy says you hope to buy him out.”
“If I can get him to agree. He’s being his usual bullheaded self, but I think he’ll knuckle under in the end. His wife’s on my team. She’s got no interest in being saddled with a house like that. I love it, but talk about a white elephant.”
“The land must be worth a fortune.”
“You ought to see our tax bill. The tricky thing is there’s a move afoot to rezone. The rumor around town is that the old packing plant has been sold and the buildings will be demolished. That property butts right up against ours, so I’ve had developers wooing me all year, trying to get the jump on it before word leaks out. I’d love to hang on, but we’d net ourselves a bundle if we sell out to them.” She reached under the bar and pulled out a roll of paper, secured with a rubber band. “You want to see what they have in mind?”