Time and Trouble (44 page)

“
Kitty,
”
Miriam said.
“
Have to clean her litter.
”

“
I think you already did, dear,
”
Emma said, pointing at the Safeway bag.

Miriam looked into the can and sighed. Then her attention turned again to her neighbor, now at the far corner.
“
What
’
s he doing?
”
she asked.

Down the street the man in sweats stood with a trash-can lid in his hand.
“
Cheating the system,
”
Emma said.
“
You pay for pickups, don
’
t you?
”

Miriam nodded.

“
I bet he doesn
’
t. He uses other people
’
s cans, and he left some meat in yours.
”

“
They are wasteful people,
”
Miriam acknowledged.
“
And meat-eaters.
”

“
Let
’
s go inside,
”
Emma said.
“
I
’
m chilly.
”

“
But the stain on their deck,
”
Billie said softly.
“
Should we
…
?
”

“
They dropped something and didn
’
t clean up after it,
”
Emma whispered.
“
We aren
’
t a housecleaning service. Dirtiness is none of our business.
”

Miriam stood in place, looking as if there were something she wanted to remember, but couldn
’
t.

“
Weren
’
t we going to have tea?
”
Emma asked.

“
Was that what I was forgetting?
”

Billie still gazed at the horizon.
“
I think
…”
she murmured.

“—
that we should go inside, drink a cup of tea and get on the road.
”
Emma enunciated each word. She was dealing with two brain-numbed women.

Miriam turned toward the house, paused, shrugged, and then took a step or two.

The neighbor appeared, waved and nodded at them before entering his house.

“
I remember. There was a stain on his deck,
”
Miriam said.

“
We
’
d be trespassing,
”
Emma said.
“
Besides, it
’
s dark. We couldn
’
t see. I
’
ll stop by again.
”

She walked Miriam to the door, which is when she realized that Billie, still in her trance, hadn
’
t budged.
“
Billie?
”

“
Two minutes,
”
she said.
“
I want to check something.
”

Emma shrugged and went into Miriam
’
s fussy but immaculate living room. She and her old friend sipped tea and reminisced about long-gone husbands and departed friends. Miriam was losing the present, but still had a hold on the past. The conversation didn
’
t lift Emma
’
s mood. She needed to be home with a beer, a bad TV show, and a nearby bed. An empty one. No energy for even a quiet night with George. She remembered
—
he had his meeting. Good. She was ready to make her farewells, but where the hell was Billie?

As if on cue, the apprentice appeared.
“
I have something of an update,
”
Billie said.
“
On the case.
”

“
What case?
”
Emma asked.

“
The one we came here to solve.
”

“
But we did already.
”
Well,
they
hadn
’
t done squat. Billie had stood there in cloud-cuckoo land and Emma had done the deducing, but why split hairs and look bad to Miriam?

“
Except,
”
Billie said,
“
I was bothered by the shot Miriam heard and the stains
—
in your can, Miriam, and the neighbor
’
s deck. And his backpack tonight. So first I walked around the front of his house. He does have trash collection. His can is pulled out of the enclosure, waiting for pickup, so there went that theory.
”

“
Maybe he only pays for one and needs two,
”
Emma said.

“
They are so wasteful,
”
Miriam said.

“
Perhaps,
”
Billie murmured.
“
But I had this different idea, so I went across the street, now that he was home, and checked out the can we
’
d seen him at.
”

The girl was milking this for all it was worth. Emma should have never hired a prima donna.
“
And?
”

“
And
…
I found a
…
a body part in plastic wrap.
”

Miriam put her hand on her heart.
“
Oh, my
—”

“
A head,
”
Billie said.

“
Oh my god!
”
Miriam looked about to pass out.

Sweet Jesus
—
she finds a head and nonchalantly
—
a
head!

“
But not a human head. A deer
’
s. A young buck.
”

Emma stared at her, then at Miriam, then back at Billie. Then she laughed.
“
You have a criminal next door,
”
she told Miriam.
“
A Marin criminal.
”

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
Miriam said.
“
I don
’
t understand.
”

“
You know it
’
s illegal to kill deer in Marin, don
’
t you? Even during hunting season. Pretty much every inch of this county is off limits. Basically, it
’
s an absolute, total no-no. Frowned upon the way, say, grand larceny or embezzlement is not frowned upon.
”

“
And that young man, you think he
—”

“
I do indeed. I think one too many deer visited him
—”

“
But he never planted anything. He had no garden to ruin. Not a single flower.
”

“
I think I saw remnants of weed,
”
Billie said.

“
That
’
s what I meant. Just weeds!
”

“
Marijuana,
”
Billie said.
“
Deer love it.
”

“
Venison is tasty,
”
Emma added.
“
And there it was, a visiting venison on the hoof. That was the shot you heard, and then he must have panicked. Good venison
—
but what to do about it? Is his pool drained by any chance?
”

“
I don
’
t know. The cover was on. That stretchy kind that hooks over metal things.
”

“
Bet it is. Bet that
’
s where he did his butchering. Now his freezer
’
s full, but he still has the problem of disposing of the inedible parts without going to jail. So he doesn
’
t do it all at once, and he surely doesn
’
t do it in his own trash can. Each week, he leaves a souvenir in a different can, or maybe a few cans after people put them out for collection. For all we know, he does this all year round, finding new neighborhoods for the body parts each time.
”

“
What should I do?
”
Miriam asked.
“
It
’
s a crime.
”

Who really cared? Didn
’
t want him to do it again because shooting a gun in a residential neighborhood is insane, but who really cared if this man or the next speeding car on the freeway thinned the herd? The wildcats, their natural predators, were all but gone. So Miriam
’
s neighbor got to eat venison instead of the turkey vultures. Was it worth jail time?

“
You should ask him when he
’
s going to have you over for dinner,
”
Emma said.
“
For venison. Ask with a smile. That
’
d let him know that you
’
re not hostile or a threat, but that you know, so he
’
d better not do it again.
”

“
I can
’
t do that,
”
Miriam said.

“
All right, but why?
”
She was afraid of forgetting what she was to do, Emma thought.

“
I don
’
t eat meat,
”
Miriam said.

Emma and Billie merely nodded.

The Last of the Mohicans does Marin. Emma envisioned his wife nagging Deerslayer because Bambi
’
s head and antlers took up too much room in their freezer. No space left for the frozen yogurt and vodka.

They left Miriam debating what course of action she wanted to take. It was good, Emma thought, to be reminded that the ludicrous was also part of the big picture.

Billie sat silently in the car, her hands crossed on her lap. Ever that proper miss, Emma thought, but she looked like perfect hell, hair gone straggly and face as lined as one that young could be.

“
Penny Redmond,
”
she murmured.
“
All this and we still don
’
t
…
The police. They
’
ll be able to get his address, right? To notify
…
Oh, God. I should
—”

“
It
’
s an open homicide now,
”
Emma said.
“
You
’
d be interfering, or seeming to. Instead, go home and get a night
’
s sleep, why don
’
t you? Leave it till morning.
”

Billie looked over with naked gratitude. And something else. The damned girl was always waiting. Expecting.
“
Good work about the deer.
”
Emma
’
s voice sounded rusty. She cleared her throat.
“
Very clever.
”

“
Thanks.
”

“
There
’
s something on the desk might be fun for you,
”
Emma said.
“
Sexual-harassment case. You
’
d be perfect for it. Soon as we find Penny or give it up.
”

Billie smiled and nodded.

I
’
m not stroking her, or whatever they call it, Emma reassured herself.

“
Miriam
’
s was fun,
”
Billie said.
“
Figuring it out, I mean.
”

Emma
’
s turn to nod. It had been. Small antidote for a dead end and a dead young man, but small didn
’
t mean nonexistent. You took what you could get. Maybe that was the point.

Twenty-Six

The honks made Penny realize she had
done it again
—
slowed to a near stop on Sir Francis Drake during the morning rush hour. All those people hurrying toward the City, the ferry stop, the bus depot.

Another honk. All those people angry at her, but her foot was too tired to press any harder. Last time people honked because she was speeding or weaving
—
something. She couldn
’
t help whatever it was.

He was dead. She couldn
’
t believe it.

No. She could. She had been afraid of that. She had seen that somebody was following them, warned him, and he had made fun of her.

But all the same, dead?
Murdered?

The policeman said
“
suspicion of foul play,
”
not an accident. He
’
d been looking for Alicia because the phone number Stephen had given the police was listed as Alicia Malone
’
s. Penny explained that she lived there, too. Gave her name. It was hard saying even that because as soon as she saw the cop, she knew it was something bad
—
her brain exploded. Maybe she nodded. Anyway, the policeman took that as a yes.

The policeman said
…

More honks. She pulled into the slowest lane and tried to concentrate but it was too hard, too noisy inside and outside. She couldn
’
t attach, move with them. She was no longer connected to anything
—
not to people, if Stephen was gone. Not to gravity or inertia. Her car
—
Alicia
’
s car
—
would do whatever it wanted. She wasn
’
t connected to it, either.

And when she had calmed down enough to speak to the cop, all she could think of was Yvonne, and she told him about her but she didn
’
t know her last name. Didn
’
t know where she worked, what she did.

She felt bad now that she
’
d said it because after a while she knew it hadn
’
t been Yvonne. She wanted him back, so why would she kill him? Besides, Stephen wouldn
’
t have stopped his car
—
not even Stephen
—
if he saw Yvonne
’
s car or Yvonne.