Dead In The Water (Rebecca Schwartz Mystery #4) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series) (7 page)

The pounding was fear. The ringing was a built-in alarm bell.

“You wouldn’t have time for coffee, would you?”

“Sure,” I said. Alarm bell be damned.

I called Chris from the restaurant.

“Got a name and number for you. Judge Serita Reyes—new on the bench, said to be eminently reasonable. And female. Maybe she has kids and she’ll be sympathetic.”

“Who knows her?”

“Bruce—uh—Pigball.”

“Parton.” Chris had a repertoire of made-up words she used when she couldn’t think of real ones—and she could almost never remember names. But I had no problem figuring out who she meant; Bruce had been in my class at Boalt.

“He’s separated from his wife, by the way—he made a special point of telling me—and asking about you.”

“Chris, stop being Southern, would you? I can’t think about that right now.”

“Of course not. He’s for later, maybe.” She gave me the judge’s number.

I dialed eagerly, mentally preparing my spiel, and got not so much as an answering machine. I dialed again. Nothing. So I called Bruce for her address. No luck there either. Coming back from the phone, I found I had trouble believing the handsome man in the white pants and light yellow sweatshirt was actually waiting for me. This Julio was something else in the looks department, and the worried frown he wore was the most appealing thing about him. I was truly reverting to form. Rob wasn’t the vulnerable type at all, but the minute he was out of my sight, I was up to my old tricks. I pulled in my energy and tried to think of this as an exercise in information gathering.

Julio looked oddly sad when he smiled. “They have cappuccino here.”

“Good. I’d love some.” Maybe it would sharpen my rapidly dulling faculties. “Could I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What were you looking for in Sadie’s office?”

“Oh, that. Something of Esperanza’s—a rock or something she found on the beach.”

“Why did Sadie have it?”

He opened his arms in the universal helpless gesture. “They were playing some sort of game—I don’t know. They were close.”

“Esperanza and Sadie?”

Remembering what Marty had said, I wondered if Sadie had once been Esperanza’s stand-in stepmother. But Julio said, “When Don started living with her, Libby naturally started spending a lot of time with the two of them. Esperanza went over to spend a weekend and fell in love. It was that simple. Sometimes she’d come over to the aquarium after school, and do you think she’d ask to see me? Not first, anyway. That’s why Sadie’s death hit her so hard.”

I sipped my cappuccino.

“I don’t know,” said Julio. “I guess she misses her mother.”

“Is this the first time she’s been away from her?”

“For this long, yes. I've had her all summer.”

“That must have been nice.”

“Uh-huh. And hard. Really hard. I’d have been lost without Libby and Amber, another kid whose dad works with Marty and me.”

“Do you miss her mom, too?”

He thought it over. “I don’t guess I do anymore. She went back to Santa Barbara—we’re both from there. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.”

I must have winced, because he said, “I didn’t mean that the way you think. I meant that it seems more final when you don’t see the person every day.”

“Santa Barbara’s nice.”

He smiled wryly. “A nice place to be from. All Hispanics are called Mexicans there.”

“Even second-generation ones?”

“Even Salvadorans.” His mouth twitched briefly as if he meant to smile when he said it, but couldn’t quite manage. “I wish Esperanza could grow up in a friendlier atmosphere. But Sylvia thinks she’s better off being near her grandparents. I don’t know, maybe she’s right. At least she’ll never have to do domestic service like they did.”

“What’s her mom do?”

“Social worker. That’s why she went back. Many good works crying out to be done.”

“But you prefer fish.”

“Any day.” His teeth were almost translucent. His lips were so full they looked slightly puckered even in repose. When he smiled, I couldn’t take my eyes off his mouth. “What exactly do you do at the aquarium?”

“Marine biologist. We all are, those of us in husbandry. We don’t all collect, though; that’s the best part.”

“Of course. That’s where the adventure is.” We both smiled, and we locked eyes. I looked away quickly. Visual caresses weren’t what I was there for.

“I want to start teaching Esperanza to snorkel, but she doesn’t seem all that interested.”

“She’s got a hell of a lot on her mind right now, with her parents breaking up—”

“Do you have kids?”

“No, why?”

“I was hoping you could help me with mine.”

“That’s an odd request—don’t you have a woman friend you could ask?”

He shrugged. “Well, that’s my problem. Marty’s in jail and Sadie’s dead.” His voice dropped on the last two words, and I thought it was more than some societal acknowledgment of her death.

“Did you like her? Sadie?”

“Very much.” The words were so heartfelt, I didn’t dare press him further on the subject. “And Esperanza loved her. Rebecca—” His eyes were pleading and hurt. “I know this sounds strange, but could you come home with me and talk to her?”

I was at a loss. “Talk to her? What would I say?”

“I don’t know. She liked you. She told me so.”

If this was a sexual ploy, it was the oddest one I’d ever encountered. But if it wasn’t that, what was it?

“I think maybe I should take her to a doctor. Maybe she’s in shock or something.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She won’t speak, except to mention the rock or whatever it is. She won’t even give it a name. She calls it ‘the white thing.’ She’s acting as if Sadie’s death had something to do with it.”

My ears perked up. “You mean, as if someone killed her for it?”

Ho looked confused and frustrated. “I don’t know. She’s not making sense. Something’s going on. She’s acting as if she’s afraid of me.”

I couldn’t believe what I saw in Julio’s living room—a huge saltwater aquarium. And other than that, precious little, as if Sylvia had taken the furniture and he’d replaced it with odds and ends.

“You like the aquarium?”

“Was I staring?”

“It’s kind of predictable, I guess.”

“It’s not that; it’s just that—” I stopped. I was damned if I was going to tell him we had this huge thing in common, as if this were a date or something. “It’s very nice.”

It was quite different from mine, much bigger for one thing, three hundred gallons maybe. And mine was heated, so I could keep tropical fish; his was a cold one. He kept the same sorts of fishes in it that they did in the big aquarium—the ones found in Monterey Bay.

“I keep mostly juvenile things in it—little blue rockfish, chili peppers, mysid shrimps, perch, gunnels—”

“There’s a grunt sculpin!” I didn’t mean to show off, but I love those funny little fellows.

“You seem to know your fish.”

“Oh, look—a baby wolf eel.” I could just see its head in a little rock cave Julio had built for it.

He grinned. “Cecil the sea serpent. Esperanza hates him. She doesn’t care much for snaky fish.”

“Omigod! What is
that
!"

“What?”

“That thing that looks like a—a—”

He stared at my pointing finger. “A dog turd?”

“To put it delicately.”

“That’s how Esperanza puts it. And talk about something she hates! Wow, does she hate them—with a deep, primal loathing the way some people hate spiders. Libby, too—all the kids do. Can’t say that I blame them either. Some things are hard even for an aquarist to stomach. It’s a hagfish—I’ve got three of them in there. Disgusting, but they’ll keep your tank clean for you.”

“A hagfish?”

“Otherwise knows as a slime eel. Does that ring a bell?” I shook my head. “I guess I’ve led a more sheltered life than I thought.”

“No eyes; one rasping tooth.” He shuddered. “Among its other charming qualities, it can tie itself in knots.”

“What about the slime?”

But Esperanza, who had heretofore not uttered a peep, called, “Daddy, are you back? Did you get it?”

“Uh-oh.” Julio looked sheepish, a provider who’d failed to bring home the bacon. “I guess I’d better break the news.”

“I didn’t realize she was here. She was so quiet.”

He sighed. “That’s how she’s been.”

“I mean, I guess I imagined you’d left her with a neighbor.”

He saw what I was getting at. “You don’t think I should have left her alone?”

“She seems so little.”

“She’s just short, like her mom. She’s ten—you don’t think that’s old enough?”

I considered. “I guess so.”

It was comical, really. I could tell he genuinely didn’t know if she was old enough to be left alone, and he thought I might because I’m a woman. I hadn’t a clue. Who did know anything about kids, and how did they find out? I’d never thought to wonder before.

“I’ll tell her the bad news. Then you can go in.” Julio walked to the back of the house, and I thought I could hear a drone, his voice. There was one stifled wail and nothing else from Esperanza.

He came back looking like some sitcom depiction of an expectant father in a waiting room—terrified by the alien world of women and children. “She’s a wreck.”

“Shall I go in alone, or do you want to come?”

But he was staring past me, out the window. “Here comes Ricky. Maybe Amber’s with him.”

I remembered that Amber was a young friend of Esperanza’s, and seeing a boy—or young man—getting out of his car, I thought he might be her brother. He was wearing a baseball cap, jeans, and tennies. He was fairly slight and fairly short—maybe a boy and maybe a man. Almost certainly the fleeing figure I’d so impulsively chased.

Clearly hoping for a juvenile distraction, Julio strode past me and opened the door. “Ricky, boy, come in. Did you bring Amber?”

“Amber’s grounded. We’re talking about a very, very naughty girl.”

“What’d she do?”

“Something so bad I don’t even want to say.” He came in, spotted me, and went, without missing a beat, into a none-too-subtle onceover. He wasn’t Amber’s brother. Either he was another single father or married life didn’t suit him.

“Ricky Flynn, Rebecca Schwartz,” said Julio.

I nodded, not offering to shake. Ricky’s staring had put me off.

Ricky nodded back, gave me a worried look—did he recognize me?—and turned to Julio, all but jerking his head in my direction, spelling out that he wished I weren’t there. A polite person would have left the room. I thought I’d learn more if I stayed.

Ricky said, “Hey, man, I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Ricky, it’s not a good time. Esperanza’s really flattened by Sadie’s death.”

“Oh, God! It’s true.” Ricky looked as if he might cry. “That’s what I came by to ask. I thought it was just some crazy rumor. Marty—”

Julio looked a warning. “Rebecca’s Marty’s lawyer,” he said quickly.

“
You’re
Marty’s lawyer?’’

I nodded, slightly amused that he wanted it repeated. On second look, there was something appealing about Ricky, and it was the thing that had put me off at first—the boyish quality that included staring like a teenager. He took off the baseball hat and ran a hand through light hair that was cut stylishly spiky, but wouldn’t stand up right after its mashing. Some of it sagged and some stuck up in tufts, affording an amusingly zany look that went well with his freckles. I thought he was younger than Julio, but I couldn’t be sure. It was hard to imagine him a father.

He blurted, “I heard Marty murdered her.”

“You did? Maybe you better tell me about it.”

He flushed. “I thought it was just a rumor.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans and stared at his tennis shoes. “It’s really true, huh?”

“It’s really true someone murdered her. Where were
you
last night between six and eight?”

“Me?” He seemed deeply shocked by the question. “Having dinner with Amber.”

“Just kidding.”

“Oh.” To Julio he said, “This really messes me up, man.”

“Ricky, could we talk about it later?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry—see you later.” He gave me a nervous, surreptitious grin and more or less stumbled out, tripping over his toes. The look reminded me of a little kid who covers his face and thinks he’s invisible. Ricky might be a
puer etemus
, but it’s the sort of thing lots of grown-ups do.

The funny thing is that it usually works, I’ve noticed. When one person telegraphs he wants to keep something secret, others usually enter into a silent conspiracy to help him do it, even when it’s much to their disadvantage. And so my natural impulse was to respect Ricky’s privacy. I ignored it.

“I think I made him uncomfortable,” I said. “He gave me a funny look when he left.”

“You didn’t make him uncomfortable. He thought you were swell.”

“It seemed as if he really had something on his mind.”

“Ricky overdramatizes.”

Oh, well. Discretion is a good quality in a man.

All this time, there hadn’t been a peep out of Esperanza. We found her lying on her bed staring at the wall.

Julio said, “
Nena
, I’ve brought Rebecca. You know—the nice lady from Libby’s? I thought you might want to talk to her.”

No answer.

The hopelessness of the whole idea swept over me like a bucket of cold water. And I was furious. Esperanza had been afraid of me before, she’d be afraid of me now. I was a stranger. She wasn’t going to talk to me.

Now I saw exactly why Julio had brought me here. This was no sexual ploy, it was a sexist one. Dealing with difficult children was women’s work and he’d simply never learned how to do it. He’d told me the truth—I was sure he did feel helpless in the face of Esperanza’s withdrawal. Instead of having the balls to break through, figure it out, do what had to be done, he’d recruited me. But I wasn’t really angry at him. I was pissed off because I felt as much at a loss as he did.

Julio stayed at the threshold while I crept in and sat on the bed, not sure whether the closeness would be comforting or threatening. I started winging it, babbling, more or less stream-of-consciousness-style, hoping I’d hit on something that got a response.