Dating Is Murder

He looked over his shoulder, then leaned in. “This one time, she asks me, ‘Paul, where does one buy drugs? At university?’ which was so fu

“Paul!” Bing yelled, gesturing with his cell phone. “The chick can’t find a parking place. Go out there, drive her car around, and send her in. Let’s go.”

“What chick?” Paul asked.

“Whatsername. The expert.”

Paul nodded, closed his laptop, and took off. Henry and I looked at each other. What did it mean, what Paul had just said? Henry frowned and returned to his paper.

I checked my watch. In Germany, it was Friday, and Mrs. Glück would be waking up. She’d left another message on my machine, begging me to call before she left for work. Maizie Qui

Hot Aloo was on the upper level of a minimall. I found I got a good signal by hanging over the balcony. Traffic sounds from Wilshire Boulevard wafted up, and from somewhere, the smell of a cigarette. The November night air was a welcome change from the stifling restaurant, even for me, who cranks up the heat when the temperature drops below seventy. Sweater Girl, Doc used to call me. I smiled, remembering, then felt my smile deflate. How long until I could think of him without melancholy, without wondering what my life would’ve been had he stuck around? How long until I’d look at a man without measuring him against Doc?

My call to Germany didn’t go through. The computer operator suggested I check the number and try the call again. I did this.

The minimall was deserted, its only movement an up escalator, a waste of electricity, since Hot Aloo had closed its kitchen to the general public. The shops were dark. I thought about when I’d managed a minimall shop and had come close to owning it. I missed my shop. I missed my ex-fiancé. I missed his daughter. I missed A

A lone figure stepped onto the escalator. I watched the escalator rise as my call went through and Mrs. Glück answered. She and I struggled through pleasantries, then I explained I was working and couldn’t talk long.

“Ja,” she said. “You have find host family?”

“The Qui

“How?”

“Au Pairs par Excellence.” No response. The escalator man reached the second level. “The agency,” I repeated. “In San Pedro. Marty, uh-Otis. Marty Otis?”

“Ah, ja, ja, San Pedro. Au pair.”

“Have they called you?” I asked. The tall man was coming toward Hot Aloo. Beautiful gait: long stride, hands in pockets, relaxed. Fu

“Nein.”

“He didn’t call? No one’s called you?”

“Where?”

Here we go again, I thought. No wonder Maizie had opted out of calling Mrs. Glück. “Okay,” I said. “I met Mrs. Qui

“Nein, you to me must to listen,” Mrs. Glück said. “Sie is brav, meine A

“Blov?”

“Brav. Brav. Verantwortlich!”

Her English deteriorated as her anxiety level rose. I revised my plan to question her about guns or drugs. “Listen, did she talk to you about Richard Feynman-”

“Nein, you must to listen. Sie is not safe, or sie must to call me.”

He was very close now. Four feet away. Well within my personal space. How odd. He leaned on the railing, the same way I leaned on it, and looked down over the minimall.

“Yes,” I said. “I agree it’s strange, but what can we do?”

Mrs. Glück had apparently given this some thought, but only in German. A

I reminded myself that twenty feet away was a restaurant full of people.

Mrs. Glück abruptly returned to English. “-peoples to look for her? California? Marty Otis, the family Kvin?”

Lying is so hard for me, I couldn’t say yes. But I knew a little of what this woman was going through, knew what she was doing up at six A.M., talking to me, a stranger. What I said would matter, so I couldn’t tell her that in fact, no, not one of these people was looking for her daughter. “I wish I had something concrete-”

“Bitte, bitte, du bist die einzigste-you must to versprechen-promise to me. Promise to me, you. They must her look. They must her find.”

I looked at the man again. He wore a suit. A beautiful one. I had a bizarre urge to touch it, to see what the fabric felt like. What a strange place the world was, people standing within touching distance of each other, not relating. “You know what?” I said. “I am looking. I’ll keep looking. I won’t give up.”

Mrs. Glück thanked me and blessed me in two languages, then hung up.

I was about to go back into the restaurant, but I’d just made a promise and it could be hours before the next break. I punched in Maizie Qui

The man turned to me. His eyes were blue. It must have been a trick of the moonlight, because they looked transparent. This intrigued me. “Something I can help you with?” I said.

“Yeah.”

I expected him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He seemed to be studying me, and I felt myself blush. I turned to go. Again.

“Wait,” he said. “Do me a favor. Walk away from this.”

“Well, which is it?” I said. “Wait or walk away?”

“I think you understand me.”

Perhaps he was mentally ill. I often attract mentally ill people, feel an affinity for them, probably from years of dealing with my brother’s schizophrenia. Also, the mentally ill can have the most beautiful eyes; why is that?

“This thing you’re walking into,” he continued. “Get out.”

I said the first thing that occurred to me. “Get out of-Biological Clock?”

“What?”

“I think you understand me,” I said. Two could play this enigmatic game.

“You think you can’t get hurt?”

What a strange thing to say. I’d been hurt quite a lot, I could’ve told him. Who in life had not? But his face was so hard, except for those eyes, that I was not tempted to bare my soul to it.

He’d been leaning on the railing, but now he straightened up and I was aware of how very tall he was. And I’m six feet myself. He looked down at me. “Think you’re that pretty?”

I stared at him. If only I had a clue what he was talking about.

He leaned in close. He smelled clean. “You are that pretty. But you’ll go down, just the same.”

The words paralyzed me. Then Bing’s voice broke the spell. “Our expert’s coming,” he yelled from the doorway of Hot Aloo. “Let’s go, folks.”

The tall man walked away. He didn’t look back, just headed for the stairs, not even acknowledging he’d heard me when I called after him, “But what is it I’ve done?”