Part 2 (1/2)
”What's up?”
”Just wondered how you were doing.”
”Pretty d.a.m.n good,” I said. I've suffered from mild depression since the death of an old girlfriend in a car accident years ago, but little brother still calls nearly every day to make sure I haven't killed myself.
”I tried calling earlier.”
”I was meeting a new client.”
”Long meeting?”
”I treated myself to dinner and a movie.”
”Good, you need to be kind to yourself.”
”That's what the self-help books say.”
”I never read 'em. I thought I was being original.”
”I don't know why they call them the dollar movies,” I said. ”The ticket cost a buck seventy-five, and I spent another six on popcorn and a drink.”
”They hose you on refreshments.”
”Yeah, and they won't even let you bring in your own stuff. Probably an ant.i.trust suit in there somewhere.” I took the hankie from my pocket and blew my nose.
”You got a cold?”
”Sinus infection.”
”Gonna see a doctor?”
”They always say it's just allergies.”
”That's what they're taught to say when they don't know what's wrong.”
”I've never been allergic to anything in my life,” I said.
”Me either,” he said. ”Real men don't get allergies.” We laughed at our own caricatures of masculinity. ”So,” he said when the laughter had ceased, ”tell me about your new client.”
”She's a math professor with a preference for the Southwestern motif.”
”Divorce case?”
”No, a fractal case.”
”Is this where I'm supposed to ask what a fractal is?”
”Yup.”
”What's a fractal?”
I explained fractals as best I could and outlined the facts my client had presented. ”And,” I added, ”guess who one of the agents was?”
”You're s.h.i.+ttin' me?”
”Nope.”
”Be nice to prove him wrong.” Troy had never met Polk, but he knew the story.
”Be nice to kill him,” I said, ”but I may have to settle for a small moral victory.”
He allowed a laugh but said, ”One manslaughter trial is enough.” A reference to a legal problem I'd had some years back.
”It was a joke,” I said.
”Not funny,” he said. I rolled my eyes. ”So, you think there's anything to this fractal thing?”
”It's worth checking out.”
”Yeah.”
”Besides, she gave me enough money to live on for a month and it beats getting a real job.”
”Amen.”
”Amen,” I repeated. There was a brief pause.
”You coming down here tomorrow?”
”How about three o'clock? I'll work out, then chow down with you and the gang.” Troy and Trudi have two kids, Andrew, age thirteen, and Chelsea, age seven.
”It's a deal,” he said.
”And bring my Glock with you.” I own one firearm-a nine-millimeter Glock 17-and I rarely carry it. There had been a string of burglaries in Troy's neighborhood, so I'd loaned the pistol to him a few months back. The burglars, two ex-cons with a taste for heroin, had since been apprehended.
”You really think these deaths are related?”
”She thinks they are,” I said. ”If she's right, we're dealing with a highly motivated individual. No use taking chances.”
”I'll bring it.”
”War fractals,” I said.
”Out,” he said. It was a sign-off routine we'd picked up from Jim Rome's sports radio show.
I hung up, opened the back door, and yelled, ”Ollie ollie oxenfree,” whatever that means. Like two Cruise missiles, they flew straight to the door, then positioned themselves at my feet and competed for affection. Tails wagging, they followed me in.
”How are my two favorite boys in all the world?” I asked as I knelt to let them nuzzle me. ”Daddy made two thousand bucks today, so he bought you fellas some treats.” I handed a foot-long compressed rawhide bone to Buck and a smaller version to Wheat. Buck trotted across the room with his and staked a claim on the couch. Wheat took cover beneath the kitchen table, where it would be difficult for Buck to get at him.
I undressed and clicked on CNN. Wearing plaid boxers and a white T-s.h.i.+rt, I began my stretching routine as an auburn-haired beauty summarized the day's events. A terrorist bomb in the Middle East, Republicans and Democrats blaming each other for the nation's ills, and an a.s.sortment of murders, kidnappings, floods, and droughts. Who wouldn't have a little depression? I turned off the TV, leaned back in my recliner, and picked up Heidegger's Being and Time.