Part 40 (1/2)

I thought back to our visit to their home. ”There was a book inside the trailer,” I said, ”but maybe Gerald was reading it.”

”Or maybe no one was,” he said. ”My dad used to do that. Put a book mark in a book and carry it around with him. Part of the ongoing fake-out.” He handed the paper back to me and added, ”My dad used to do this, too. Just write the numbers. Pretend he was in a big hurry, couldn't write out the rest.”

”Whether she can read or not, I'm betting there's an El Camino stashed there.”

”A what?”

I told him what I had seen when I studied the photos.

”And if it's at this address?”

”We'll consult Rachel on that. The police can probably tell if anyone has hauled explosives in that car.”

He started looking through the photos again.

”One other thing,” I said, ”I can understand why your uncle didn't ask about my face being bruised. Unfortunately, not everyone will ask a woman where she got her bruises-they may be thinking, 'Leave that husband before he kills you, honey,' but not many people will comment aloud. Brennan and his neighbors didn't ask, several other people didn't ask. But you-have we met up with anyone who didn't ask or comment about your hand?”

He thought for a moment, then said, ”Just Gerald.”

”Right. And since the prenuptial agreement only covered a fortune that no longer exists, who stands in line to inherit if you and your mother are out of the way?”

”Before this new will, Gerald.”

”If he has worked long enough in construction,” I said, ”he probably knows where he can get access to explosives.”

After taking some time to think about all of this, he asked, ”What should we do?”

”First, call Rachel. Talk to her about all of this, and tell her we're on our way to her place.”

”I don't think this is such a hot idea,” I said.

”Let's just see if we can find that car,” Rachel said. ”We don't need to touch it-but if it's there, we call the police, tell them to bring dogs trained in locating explosives. You can bet they'll be traces of it in the El Camino.”

”I don't know-” I said, feeling more cautious than usual.

”You have some dark clothes in that trunk of yours?” she asked Travis, ignoring me.

”Yes,” he answered, excited by the prospect of taking some action. ”I might even have a dark T-s.h.i.+rt that will fit Irene.”

She told us to change into the darkest clothes we could find; she had already done the same. In fact, she was shamelessly outfitted as though she were a burglar.

”You don't want to come along,” she said to me, ”fine. Stay here.”

I let myself be swept along, even as I heard that inner voice say, Watch where you're going!

Rachel tried to make up for snapping at me by giving me a long-handled flashlight. I tried not to think about it being just like one I used to keep in the Karmann Ghia. I was putting D-cell batteries in it when Travis came into Rachel's living room, s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned and frustration written all over his face. One-handed dressing. I'd been there once myself.

”You managed the pants,” I said, before he spoke. ”s.h.i.+rts with b.u.t.tons are a nuisance. Let me help.”

”It didn't give me this much trouble in the store,” he said.

”That was earlier in the day.”

He was quiet as I worked on the b.u.t.tons. He thanked me, then paced while I finished putting the flashlight together. I supposed he was working himself up over the evening's adventures, but I decided talking about it wouldn't make him any calmer.

”Take a left here,” I said. Throughout the drive to Los Alamitos, that type of phrase had been the extent of our conversation. Now that we were off the main boulevards, the streets we drove on were deserted. Rachel was driving-Frank's Volvo-and slowed to look at addresses. She pulled over to the curb.

”Its not in this block,” I said.

”Before we get there, once again let's go over what we're going to do. Travis, you'll watch from the car. Any sign of trouble-if you see Gerald or Deeny, or even their cars-start the car. We'll be listening for it. Don't unlock the doors until we're close to the car. Use your cell phone in case there's real trouble-you just stay inside the car and call the police.”

I thought he might protest that he wanted to take a more active role, but he simply said, ”All right.”

”The other thing you need to do is to watch for a signal from Irene. If she flashes her flashlight twice, start the car and if she flashes it three times, call nine-one-one.”

”Since we're breaking and entering,” I asked, ”what is he supposed to tell them?”

Travis laughed.

”Actually,” Rachel said, ”that will do fine. Travis, tell them there's a burglary in progress.”

”I hope none of the neighbors make the same call before he does,” I said.

”You could have stayed home,” she said.

Too late now. ”Where do you want me posted?”

”We'll figure that out when we get there. You'll be outside the building, watching for anyone approaching on foot.”

”What if they're already at the house?” I asked.

”Not sure. Depends on the setup.”

”Do you two have weapons?” Travis asked.

”Yes, we're armed,” Rachel said, not betraying herself by giving me any meaningful looks. While I knew she carried a gun, I wondered what besides my Swiss Army knife and a big flashlight counted as my weapons.

She pulled back onto the street again. There was an odd mix of buildings on the street; a church, small houses, a few duplexes, some light-manufacturing companies and other businesses. We crossed over railroad tracks that used to run through Papa DeMont's sugar beet farm, pa.s.sing a lumberyard.

The house Gerald Spanning had purchased was the only residence on its block. There was a new post office across the street, an abandoned foundry on one corner. There were several vacant lots between the house and the foundry.

The house was completely dark, its exterior illuminated by a street lamp. There were no cars parked in the narrow, unpaved driveway, which led to a pair of old-fas.h.i.+oned, carriage-style garage doors. The garage was separated from the house by a short, cracked and weed-choked walkway. A low, rusted and bowed chain-link fence gaped open near one corner of the front yard it enclosed. The lawn had been mowed, but the flower beds were dry and empty. The dark paint on the house and garage was peeling. One of the screens on a front window was torn. If he was fixing the place up, Gerald was working on the interior first.