Part 9 (1/2)
”Such as?”
She ticked items on her fingers. ”Socks for the cold weather. Toiletries for hygiene, like body soap, deodorant, toothbrushes and toothpaste, shampoo, disposable razors, rolls of toilet paper, and small packets of laundry detergent.”
I thought about Sonia and her organizing skills. I'd ask her to contact the neighbors and solicit donations of those other items. ”I think we can put something together by Sunday, but I need you to go there and let people know we're coming.”
”No problem. You gotta respect their privacy. Hand out your packages and then leave. You and I can look for your witnesses.”
”Do you know how many people are living there right now?”
Hilda shrugged and looked at the ceiling, calculating. ”At least fifty. Maybe more.”
Help for fifty people would be a challenge to organize in the next two days, but I was pretty sure it could be done with a little help from my friends. If I found Javier and Graciela, and if they witnessed Dax Martin's murder, and if I could convince them to tell the police what they knew, I could clear Ed from suspicion by Sunday night.
CHAPTER 16.
I laid my keys on the hall table, right next to the key Beavers angrily discarded the day before. I walked slowly to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on to boil. Some late-afternoon tea would help me think about what to do next.
I made my first call to Sonia. ”We can go forward with our plans to distribute blankets to the homeless on Sunday.”
”Will we be safe?”
”Yeah. I'm going to ask my friend Yossi to be our escort, though.”
”Your big biker guy?”
My guy? That's the second time she's mentioned him today.
”Yes. You probably also saw he has a big white truck to transport the stuff.”
Sonia's voice sparked with excitement. ”Terrific! How many blankets do we need?”
”There are at least fifty people down there. We should also put together packets of personal hygiene products.” I recited the list Hilda suggested.
Sonia said she'd hit up the neighbors for donations. ”Can your quilting friends get fifty quilts?”
”No. Maybe fifteen.”
”Well, then, how about I also ask the neighbors for donations of regular blankets? New or used, as long as they're clean.”
Sonia agreed to have the items dropped off at her house and we'd put everything in packages on Sat.u.r.day night.
The kettle whistled and I made myself a cup of genmaicha, j.a.panese green tea. I took a moment to enjoy the distinctive roasted-rice flavor, which always reminded me of sitting at a sus.h.i.+ bar.
Next I called Crusher's cell phone.
”Yeah?”
”Hi, Yossi. It's Martha. Are you up to doing another good deed?”
”Anything for you, babe. What do you need?”
”I need a big truck and a bunch of strong guys to keep the peace.”
”I've got more than that for you.” He chuckled. ”When and where?”
I ignored the innuendo and told Crusher about the plan to distribute blankets and packages to the homeless on Sunday. ”I'm hoping the groundskeeper can tell me something tomorrow about Javier and Graciela. If he can't, we still might find them or someone who knows about them in the reserve. What do you think?”
”I'm in. You're still gonna talk to the groundskeeper tomorrow morning, right?”
”Oh, sure. No stone unturned.”
”Do you want me to come along as backup?”
Is he kidding? A three-hundred-pound hulk with a do-rag?
”No thanks, Yossi. Better I go alone. I look less threatening, if you know what I mean.”
He laughed. ”I pity the guy who underestimates you.” He paused. ”Is that what happened with Beavers?”
I remembered the confusion, anger, and disappointment I felt when Beavers accused me of spending the night with Crusher. ”I don't want to talk about it.”
”Sorry, babe. You wanna get some dinner tonight? We could go to the Cantina on Mulholland Drive. They have killer enchiladas.” I'd never been to the Cantina, a notoriously rowdy hangout for bikers, cowboys, and movie stuntmen. ”I can pick you up in a half hour and you can ride on the back of my bike.”
There it was. Crusher told Beavers he wanted to get me on the back of his bike-also known as the ”b.i.t.c.h seat.” Beavers had gone livid. Was Crusher really interested in me, or was he just playing me because he wanted to stick it to Beavers? When did I get so cynical?
”No thanks, Yossi. It's been a long day. I'm just going to chill at home and go to bed early.”
”Okay, but one day you'll get over him, and I want to be first in line when that happens.”
First of all, I didn't know if I'd ever get over Beavers. Second of all, there wouldn't be a line. There had never been a line. Third of all, even though he was growing on me, I still didn't like Crusher in that way.
”You're sweet, Yossi. I'll talk to you soon.”
I made myself another cup of tea and the phone rang.
”Hi, faigele. Are we still on for Shabbat dinner tomorrow?” My elderly uncle Isaac always called me by that Yiddish endearment, ”little bird.”
”Of course.”
”I called to say you don't have to pick me up. Morty's gonna visit a friend in Northridge. He says he'll drop me off at your house on the way.”
”Why don't you invite Morty for dinner? I'm cooking a brisket.”
”I did, but he's got other plans. He's got a new girlfriend.”