Larkspur (23 page)

"I needed room..."

"Not the right time," he agreed, mocking but not harsh. "It was never the right time,
Lark. I was going to ask you when we went out to Llewellyn's lodge. I was working up to it."

"Definitely not the right time. Okay, but why now? I just threw up, I feel rotten, I can't
even hug you."

His voice roughened. "I asked because I felt about as low as I could, and I figured if you
said no I couldn't feel much worse."

I flopped back against the pillow. "Oh. Gosh, Jay, how could you doubt..." I sniffed a
huge sniff. "I love you."

"I guess you must."

"When?"

"What?" His turn for confusion.

"When do you want to get married?"

He laughed--or started to and groaned. "Any time. Except today. Give the ribs a chance
to heal."

I was beginning to feel good and, unfortunately, amorous. I raised up on my right elbow
and kissed him--delicately so as not to undo the split lip. "I suppose we can talk it over
later."

"That's right."

I squiggled up against the Velcro.

"Don't get too comfortable. I need another pain pill."

So I got it for him. He went to sleep almost at once, but I turned the redundant blanket
off and lay awake awhile, entertaining visions of orange blossoms. I'm ashamed to admit Denise
hardly crossed my mind.

I woke next morning to the sound of Jay yelping in the shower. I dashed to the bathroom
and pulled the shower curtain open.

"I thought that would bring you," he said complacently and gave me a wet kiss. "Come
on in, the water's fine."

We had a pleasant interlude, cautious but satisfying, in the shower. In the course of our
slippery conjunction, we managed to assure each other that he had indeed proposed, and I had
indeed accepted, and neither of us had been hallucinating.

That was about as far as our nuptial planning got, because Jay was on his way to work.
Kevin had called him with word of a possible make on the gun that killed Miguel. They had
found a thumbprint, very old, on the clip, and the state lab's new computerized scanner was going
to try to find a match.

"It'll turn out that the gun was stolen from some blameless citizen five years ago." Jay
was trying to fit his .38 into the holster at the back of his waistband. Ordinarily he wore a
shoulder holster, but the cracked ribs made that impractical. He grumbled and winced and finally
got the gun fitted in where he could get at it in a pinch. Then I helped him into his jacket, and he
was off.

I phoned Ma.

It was not yet eight, so I had the satisfaction of waking her up. Revenge is sweet.

"Uh, you what?"

"I'm getting married!"

"Unh?"

I took pity on her. "We decided last night. I thought you should be the first to
know."

"Er, that's wonderful, darling." But what do you want me to do about it at this hour? She
didn't say that, but I could hear her thinking it.

I grinned at the phone. "Never mind, Ma. We'll just pop over to Reno and get it over
with quick. Tell Dad when you call him." I hung up and went into the kitchen, chortling.

Ten minutes later the phone rang again.

"Just kidding!" I caroled, cradling the phone on one shoulder and picking up my coffee
cup.

"Lark?"

Oops. "Oh, hi, Ginger. How are you? How's Dennis, more to the point."

"Awful. He had an awful night." I could hear her swallow. "Can we come over?"

"Now?"

"Dennis wants to talk to you."

"Jay..."

"Not Jay. I mean not yet. It's...well, it's strange."

I scowled at the phone. If Dennis had information, he ought to take it straight to Jay. I
thought of Dennis's shock and misery the day before--and Jay's role in it--and I had to soften.
"Well, okay. Jay's already at the courthouse. I'll make a pot of coffee. Did you eat
breakfast?"

"No, yes, it doesn't matter." She was distracted by something and turned from the phone.
"He's gone to work," I heard her say. She covered the receiver with her hand. Conferring with
Dennis. She turned back to the receiver. "Fifteen minutes?"

"Okay."

She hung up. I prowled around tidying the living room. I defrosted a coffee cake in the
microwave and fixed coffee. I was out of cream but it didn't matter because westerners drink
theirs barbarian black. I was wondering what Dennis had thought of, of course, and curiosity and
apprehension coiled my insides like a watch-spring. I needed a good run.

The bell rang just as the microwave bonged. I flipped it off and went to the door.

Ginger and Dennis were leaning on each other, looking as if neither of them had slept. I
ushered them in and poured them coffee without making small talk.

When Ginger had taken a couple of sips and looked as if she might live, I said
cautiously, "Did you get hold of the kids?"

"Yeah. Larry wanted to come over and mount guard." She sniffed. "Tammy was ready to
quit work."

"Great kids."

She sniffed again, teary-eyed.

I set them next to each other on my sofa, but they weren't quite touching. Not a good
sign. "More?"

Dennis nodded, still mute, and Ginger muttered something that might have been 'yes' so
I went for the pot. I also cut the coffee cake into wedges and grabbed some paper napkins. When
I'd set the cake on the coffee table and poured, I took the pot back to the kitchen to brew refills. I
returned to see Dennis absent-mindedly ingesting a wedge of cake, so he was probably going to
be all right.

I plunked down on the rocker. "What did you want to tell me?"

He finished chewing solemnly and patted his mouth with a napkin. Ginger and I watched
him put his brain in gear.

He was a big, slow man--not stupid, slow. He almost always came to reasonable
conclusions, but his thought processes were tortuous. I could see he was working something
through in his head.

I leaned forward, and the chair creaked. "I ought to warn you that I won't withhold
evidence from Jay. Neither should you."

He sighed. "The thing is, see, I don't know if it's evidence. I called Mother yesterday
around eleven thirty. I was worried about her and Ginger meeting, see?"

Ginger took a sip of coffee and didn't look at him.

"See, the thing is we quarreled." He swallowed hard, and there was a long pause.

I waited.

"I was trying to tell her how wrong she was about Ginger. I said some things." He
cleared his throat and went on doggedly, "I said some rotten things to her, and she kind of...well,
I think she was sort of teasing me."

Torturing him, more likely. I nodded.

"She told me she was going to call and put Ginger off, because this friend was coming to
lunch. I blew up. I didn't listen real close. I was mad." He twisted the paper napkin in his big
hands. "I told her she'd better see Ginger that afternoon or she wouldn't be seeing
me
,
and she teased at me some more, and then, when I said some other things, she said she'd see
Ginger at two. I told her she'd better and hung up. I was steamed." His voice shook. "And that
was the last time I heard her voice."

"Oh, Dennis."

Ginger sat very still.

Dennis cleared his throat again. "I think she told me who was coming to lunch. I think
she said it was Lydia."

"Lydia?" I felt a chill along my spine. "Are you sure?"

"I thought about it, Lark. I don't know. I saw Lydia at the farmhouse when I got there,
didn't I? Maybe I just imagined my mother said it was Lydia. I wasn't listening to what Denise
said. I don't want to get anybody in trouble."

"But if Lydia killed Denise..."

"If she killed my mother, I want her to suffer."

A long silence fell. I sank onto the rocker.

For the first time, Ginger put her hand on his arm. She looked at me.

I swallowed. "But you were right, weren't you? That she was being unfair to Ginger. And
besides, she...your mother was teasing you. Neither of you would have said what you said if
you'd known what was going to happen. She loved you, and she knew you loved her."

That started Dennis crying again. Ginger comforted him. I went back into the kitchen to
collect my wits. When I returned, they were looking a lot more comfortable with each other.

Dennis gave me a wavering smile. "What do you think I should do?"

"Talk to Jay." When he frowned I went on, "He won't assume Lydia's guilty, you know,
and he needs all the help he can get."

Ginger stirred. "Does Dennis have to...?"

I turned to her. She was looking uncharacteristically vague. "Have to what?"

"Have to mention that he and Denise quarreled?"

"He'll think I killed her," Dennis said miserably.

I sat down again, and the rocker creaked. I wasn't sure Dennis was wrong. "You may
have to go over the conversation a couple of times, but Jay doesn't go off half-cocked. He wants
this killer. Why not help him?"

The phone rang. I dashed back to the kitchen. It was Mother. She apologized for not
congratulating me with the proper fervor and begged me almost tearfully not to run off to
Nevada.

"I was pulling your leg, Ma." I craned round the corner. My guests were showing signs
of restlessness. "Look, I can't talk now. I've got company."

"At eight forty-five on Sunday morning?"

"Ginger and Dennis."

"Oh. Tell Jay..."

"He's already at the courthouse."

"Well, darn it, Lark, I want to talk this over. It's important."

"Lunch?"

We agreed that I'd drive out to the lodge for lunch. Ma wanted me to bring Jay. I said I'd
try but not to count on it. Ginger was up and pacing by the time we'd settled everything. I hung
up.

"Come to the courthouse with us." Ginger planted her feet on the carpet and raised her
chin, her face flushed. "Jay will listen if you explain about the quarrel."

That was nuts, and I told her so. Jay was a pro. He'd probably have someone else
question Dennis anyway, and he'd dislike my intrusion.

Ginger dug her heels in.

We dickered. Finally I gave up and agreed to drive to the courthouse with them. The
phone rang. Janey wanted to get together with me. She was leaving for Oregon Monday. She
sneezed. Allergies. Did I want to go for a run?

I did, but I put her off, hung up, and phoned Jay to warn him we were coming. He
sounded distracted. He could not lunch with Ma. I was disappointed but not surprised.

I decided the session at the courthouse might take a while, so I went into the bedroom
and changed into a skirt and top that might pass muster at the dining room of the Eagle Cap
Lodge. We didn't reach the courthouse until nine thirty, and we drove in separate cars.

The Monte County courthouse is a stolid late-Victorian structure with a jail circa 1970
tucked around back. Jay's office was on the third floor of the main building. He met us in the
hall, which smelled of wax, room-freshener, and ancient crime. He gave me a brief kiss and
shook hands with Dennis and Ginger.

"Dennis has something to tell you," I prompted, feeling like a fool.

Jay said easily, "I was going to come over to see you later, Dennis. I thought you needed
a little time. Your memory was bound to be loused up yesterday." Not for nothing was Jay
trained to negotiate with hostage-takers. I practically felt Ginger relax. Dennis still looked
apprehensive, but he had stopped twisting his hands.

Jay led us in through the main office with its bullpen of desks. A bored deputy was
reading
True Detective
at the booking station, and Carol, the dispatcher, gave me a smile
from her communications board. Kevin wasn't at his desk. Probably at church. He was a devout
Methodist. I flipped Carol a wave and followed Ginger into Jay's office. It was kind of
crummy--badly in need of fresh paint and furnished in New Deal leftovers--but it had a corner window on a
spectacular view of the Siskiyous.

Jay was making preliminary rumblings. Time for me to bow out. I was about to say so
when the sergeant on duty entered with her notebook, looking trim and official, and Ginger
grabbed my arm.

"Don't leave us," she hissed.

I rolled my eyes at her.

Her perm was electric that morning, and her eyes pleaded.

Jay and Dennis were looking at us, Jay frowning.

"Dennis remembered something that may be important," I said, resigned to my role as
go-between. "But he and Denise had a disagreement over the phone, and he's sure you'll arrest
him for murdering Denise if he tells you about it."

Jay turned to Dennis. "I can't make promises, but we're pretty sure you're clear on the
first murder, Dennis, and I think there's only one killer."

Dennis and Ginger sighed in unison.

To my surprise Jay took Dennis through his story then and there, though they went out
with the sergeant when Dennis was ready to sign a statement. When they returned, minus the
sergeant, Dennis looked almost tranquil. I heard Ginger expel a long, relieved breath as she rose
to go.

Jay kept us a few minutes while he told Dennis about the state lab's computer search for
the owner of the partial thumbprint they had found on the gun that killed Miguel. Dennis got
interested in--or perhaps distracted by--the technicalities. If my mother had been murdered, I
wouldn't have been able to listen, which may be one of the differences between men and women.
I think Jay was trying to give Dennis the illusion of progress.

Dennis and Ginger went off hand in hand. I looked at Jay. "Are you going to arrest
Lydia?"

"Not yet, but you can bet I'm going to question her."

"Any other developments?"

His mustache whiffled. "Have you no faith?"

"In you, yes. In your gizmoes and gadgets very little. I'm going to lunch with Ma. Any
messages?"

"I won't be married in a monkey suit."

"How about gorilla?"

He kissed my cheek, a chaste office-type kiss, and escorted me to the elevator. "We may
have a witness at that construction site above Denise's house. Kev's looking into it."