Part 17 (1/2)
”Danno, I'm real sorry about your pants and sweater. I will replace them,” I added.
”Don't worry about my clothes. I just wish they had been leather and a little more useful against a knife. Ten st.i.tches is not fun.”
”Been talking to Ranson, huh?” I replied.
”Briefly. I got most of the story from Cordelia James.”
”You know her?” I asked, not adding, ”that well?”
”Oh, sure. I introduced her to Th.o.r.eau. He's a social worker who's done things with my office on several occasions. A pretty nice guy, does work with crime victims.”
”Her fiance, I take it,” I said.
”Right.”
”But how do you know her?” I persisted.
”I met her somewhere around. It was a while ago,” Danny replied evasively. ”They're coming over here for dinner this Sat.u.r.day. Want to come?”
”I don't know,” I answered, not sure I did. ”He looks an awful lot like my despised cousin Bayard. It might be an uphill battle for me to even be polite to him.”
”You've seen him?”
”No, there was a picture in Cordelia's apartment.”
”What were you doing in her apartment?” a.s.sistant D.A. Clayton asked.
”I spent the night there.”
”You what?” Danny exclaimed. I heard Elly in the background * 121 *
asking what was going on. ”Micky, don't play with fire. This woman doesn't need a tomcat like you in her bed.”
”Calm down, I wasn't in her bed. She has two bedrooms. I was in the other one. The night I got beaten up and my place was trashed.”
”Oh, okay. Anyway, she's not your type.”
”Straight women rarely are,” I replied.
”So are you coming to dinner?” Danny said, not exactly changing the subject, but realigning it somewhat.
”No, I think not. I hate sitting around with happily grinning couples.
Besides that, I'd be a bad influence. Not to mention reawakening memories of my despised cousin Bayard.”
”Okay,” Danny replied, not putting up much of a fight. ”And cousin will do, you don't need to keep repeating 'despised.'”
”That's how I think of him. My 'despised cousin' is second nature by now. Like New with Orleans.”
”If you insist. Call me if you change your mind about dinner.”
”I'll debate on it. Say hi to Elly for me.” Danny did, Elly hi-ed back, and we hung up.
Then I called Ranson.
”Back so soon?” she answered to my h.e.l.lo. ”I thought I told you to take a leisurely world cruise.”
”But, dear Joanne, the tickets you sent weren't prepaid.”
”Crummy government salary,” she answered. ”You going to be at Danny's Sat.u.r.day night?”
”Are you?”
”Yes.”
Now this was getting interesting. At one time Danny had tried to set me up with Ranson. Maybe I should let her succeed. I was beginning to think I could get into the long arms of the law being around me.
”I haven't decided,” I hedged.
”Decide. Elly makes a great pecan pie and she's promised us one.
And I make the world's best oyster sauce, which I'm bringing along with the oysters.”
”Decision made. I love raw oysters.” Which I do. I could put up with despised Bayard for the time it takes me to eat an oyster c.o.c.ktail.
I guessed I could put up with his double for a few hours.
”Good, I'll see you there,” Ranson said, ringing off.
* 122 *
Well, maybe I would go to this dinner. I called Danny back and told her that I'd heard rumors of oysters and pecan pie, and for those I could put up with a lot. She asked me to bring some appropriate music as my contribution to the evening. I agreed.
So I had my Sat.u.r.day night taken care of. (And, if I was lucky, my Sunday morning also). Now I just had to figure out how to pa.s.s the rest of the time until Monday, when I was going to go after Milo and his boss-the man who had ordered Barbara's murder.
It didn't take much thought. There was still a lot of cleaning and repairing to be done at my apartment. Friday was spent waiting around for the glazier to show up and fix my windows. Friday night was the laundromat doing six loads of laundry, every washable piece of clothing that I owned except what I had on. Sat.u.r.day I got serious and ruthless about my semi-organized piles. I saw patches of the floor that I hadn't seen since I'd moved in. Then I went through my record and tape collection, trying to pick out ones that might be suitable and making sure that they were in one piece and hadn't been victims of the vandalism.
Then I had to find something to wear. I always hated this part.
After a while spent looking at my closet and its newly washed clothes, I ended up in my best pair of jeans with a royal blue V-neck sweater. (I wondered if Ranson had ever noticed my t.i.ts.) Then I put on my jean jacket, gathered my records and tapes, and headed for Danny's and Elly's place.
My car had been making odd noises and would probably have to go to the garage, but I didn't want to worry about it now, so I took the bus.
I was the first guest there, but public transportation will do that to you. Either too late or too early.
Danny and Elly rented the bottom floor of a house. A male couple had the top floor. They had just moved in six months ago. When they decided that they were serious about each other, I guess. They had spent time and some money fixing it up and now had parties and barbecues in good weather to show it off.
The first thing I noticed was two gorgeous pecan pies sitting on the sideboard. The second thing I noticed was that the big table had seven place settings. Uh-oh, had I blundered into a den of couples? Dens of * 123 *
iniquity, dens of thieves, anything bit a den of couples. I decided to wait until all the evidence had arrived before I got too perturbed.