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"Sure, the office is right up there."
I watched him calculate. He was clearly hoping for a way to change my routine, but parking farther away was only going to make the walk longer, thus exposing us for an extended period. He pulled in, handed me the ticket, and found a parking space. "Anything looks weird," he said, "speak up right away. Any sign of trouble, we'll get the fuck out."
"Right," I said. It was amazing what this "we" business was doing to my head. I wasn't famous for letting guys tell me what to do and I was hoping I wouldn't get used to it.
Again, he came around to the passenger side and opened the door, his gaze sweeping the lot as I emerged into the open air. He took my elbow, walking me rapidly across the lot to the back stairs. I wanted to laugh. It felt like having a parent march you up to your room. He entered the building first. The second-floor corridor was deserted. California Fidelity offices weren't open yet. I unlocked my office door. Dietz stepped in ahead of me and took a quick look around, making sure there weren't any goons lurking behind the furniture.
He scooped up the mail that had piled up on the floor just under the slot. He sorted through it quickly. "Let me tell you what we're looking for, in case I'm not here to do this. An unfamiliar return address, or one done by hand. Anything marked personal, extra postage due to weight, oil stains…"
"A bulky package with a fuse hanging out the side," I said.
He handed me the stack, his expression bland. It's hard to warm to somebody who looks at you that way. Apparently, he didn't think I was as fu
I opened the French doors and paused, suddenly reluctant to step out on the balcony. Across the street, I could see the tiers of the parking garage and it occurred to me that anyone could drive up two levels, park, and get a bead on me. I wasn't even sure a high-powered rifle would be required. You could almost throw a rock from there arid pop me in the noggin. I stepped away from the doors, withdrawing into the shadowy safety of the office. I really hated this.
At 9:05, I put a call through to my insurance agent and reported the accident. She said there was no blue book on the VW because of its age. It looked like I was going to be lucky if I picked up two hundred bucks on the claim, so there was no point in having the car towed. Finding an adjuster in Brawley who would go out and take a look was almost more trouble than the car was worth. She said she'd check into it and get back to me. This conversation failed to fill me with happiness. I have a savings account, but the purchase of a car would seriously deplete my funds.
Dietz returned to the office in time to intercept Vera, who had stopped in to say hello on her way into the office next door.
"My God, what happened to you?" she said when she saw my face.
"My car ended up in an irrigation ditch down in Brawley," I said. "This is Robert Dietz. He was nice enough to drive me back. Vera Lipton, from the offices next door."
They shook hands briefly. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt that fit her like automobile upholstery and made a creaking sound when she eased into one of my client chairs. Dietz moved over and parked a hip on the edge of my desk. It was amusing to watch them size each other up. Unknown to Vera, Dietz was viewing her as a potential assassin while I suspect she was evaluating his qualifications for a roll in the hay- whether hers or mine, I couldn't say. From her expression, she assumed he'd picked me up hitchhiking and since she considers me hopelessly conservative when it comes to men, I thought the possibility might lend me a certain stature in her eyes. I tried to look like the kind of woman who'd flag down a stranger on the road, but she wasn't interested in me-she was studying him. I was going to have to call this doctor friend of hers so we could double-date.
She reached into her handbag automatically and pulled a cigarette from a pack of Virginia Slims. "I'm not smoking this. I just need to hold it," she said when she caught my look. "I quit last week," she added in an aside to him.
I glanced at Dietz to see what his reaction would be. He hadn't had a cigarette now for over twenty-four hours, a personal best perhaps. Fortunately, he seemed to be sidetracked by the pheromones wafting through the air like perfume. Vera didn't actually drape one long leg across the chair arm, but there was something provocative about the way she sat. As often as I've seen her operate, I've still never figured out exactly what she does. Whatever the behavior, most men will begin to sit, lie down, and fetch like trained pups.
"I hope you're not forgetting the di
"Oh, that's right! I completely forgot. Really, I'm sorry, but I just don't see how I can make it," I said, with visual reference to Dietz. He was never going to permit my attendance at a public affair. Vera caught the look and said to Dietz, "You're invited, of course. Jewel's leaving the company after twenty-five years. Attendance is mandatory… no ifs, ands, or buts."
"Where's it being held?" he asked.
"The Edgewater Hotel. A private dining room. Should be very elegant. It's costing enough."
"How many people are we talking about?"
Vera shrugged. "Maybe thirty-five."
"Invitation only?"
"Sure. It's California Fidelity employees and guests. Why?"
"Can't do it," I said.
"I think we can manage it," Dietz said at the same time. "It will help if there's been no advance publicity."
Vera looked from one of us to the other. "What's going on?"
Dietz filled her in.
I waited, feeling oddly irritated, while they went through the catechism of disbelief and assurances. Vera expressed all the requisite attitudes. "God, that's awful. I can't believe things like that actually go on. Listen, if you guys don't want to risk it, I'll understand."
"I'll want to check it out, but we'll see how it looks. Can we let you know in the morning?" Dietz said.
"Of course. As long as I know by noon, it shouldn't be any problem."
"What time's the di
"No-host cocktails at seven. The di
"You, too."
She moved toward the door.
"Oh, and Vera…," he said. "We'd prefer to keep this quiet."
She pulled her glasses down on her nose, looking at him over the rims. There was an elegant pause while she raised a brow. "Of course," she said-the word asshole implied. There was something flirtatious in the very way she left the room. Lord, she was really going all out for this guy.
Dietz seemed to color. It was the first time I'd seen him disconcerted by anything. The most unlikely men turn out to be suckers for abuse.
When the door closed behind her, I turned on Dietz with an outraged tone. "I thought you said no public events!"
"I did. I'm sorry. I can see I caught you by surprise. I don't want to interfere any more than I have to. If this is something you want, then let's find a way to do it."
"I'm not going to risk my life for something like that!"
"Look. There's no way we can eliminate every possibility of attack. I'm here to reduce the likelihood, that's all. The president goes out in public, for God's sake," he said. His tone shifted. "Besides, I'm not convinced the guy we're dealing with is a pro…"