Devon pressed the doorbell. She couldn’t be sure whether or not it was ringing inside the apartment because there was so much noise coming from below. Though it wasn’t a holiday, half a dozen school-age children were playing in the service alley. Devon pressed the bell again, and when this failed to bring a response she rapped sharply with her knuckles.
“Carla? Are you in there, Carla?”
The door of the next apartment opened and a young black woman stepped out, carrying a child’s teddy bear. Her eyes were weary and swollen and she held her body as if it hurt. Like the building itself she seemed to be a victim of overuse and neglect.
She said, “No,” in a low-pitched hoarse voice.
Devon stared at her. “Pardon?”
“No, she ain’t there. You from Welfare?”
“No.”
“Lopez went off with some guy early this morning.”
“What about the baby?”
“She was gonna drop it off at her mother’s place and then she and the guy was gonna go away by themselves... You sure you ain’t from Welfare?”
“I’m a friend of Carla’s.”
“Then you know she lost her job.”
“Yes.”
“She was feeling real blue about it and on top of that she got some kind of court order. But last night I could hear her moving around in there, singing away to herself — like happy, you know? I figured she found a new job. But then she came over and told me how she was going on a vacation.”
“Where?”
“Some city up north. Like way up north, out of state.”
“Do you remember the name of it?”
“I never been out of state.”
“Would you remember if you heard it again?”
“Maybe so.”
“Seattle,” Devon said.
“Seattle.” The young woman passed her fingers across her mouth as though she were trying to feel the shape of the word. “Seattle, is that way, way up north?”
“About as far as you can get without leaving the country.”
“That sounds like the place.”
“Did you see Carla leave?”
“Couldn’t help it. I was standing right where I am this minute.”
“Was the man with her?”
“He waited down on the street beside the car.” Her eyes fired up for a moment like pieces of coal. “Maybe the car was stolen, eh?”
“Had you ever seen the man before?”
“No. But I kind of suspicioned from the way the two of them acted that he was a relative, not a boy friend. Her uncle, maybe.”
“Then he wasn’t a young man?”
“No. He moved heavy.”
“Uncles don’t ordinarily go on vacations with nieces.”
“Oh, he didn’t want to go, I could tell that. He kept leaning against the car, hungover maybe, or maybe just blue. Anyhow, it was a funny scene, her flying around like a bird and him dead on his feet.”
A girl flying happy like a bird, Devon thought, and a hungover uncle dead on his feet.
She said, “Thank you, Mrs.—”
“Harvey. Leandra Harvey.”
“Thanks very much, Mrs. Harvey.”
“Sure. Any time.”
The two women stared at each other for a moment as if they both knew there wouldn’t be another time.
Devon stopped at a gas station and put in a call to Ford’s office. She had to wait several minutes before Ford’s voice came on the line, soft and precise: “Yes, Mrs. Osborne?”
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“No bother.”
“It’s about the girl who testified at the hearing yesterday morning, Carla Lopez. She has no phone and I wanted to ask her some questions, so I drove into the city to see her.”
“And did you?”
“No. That’s why I’m calling. The woman who lives next door told me Carla left this morning on a vacation with a man.”
“Nothing illegal about that.”
“I think I know who the man was and I’m pretty sure I know where they’re going. There’s something peculiar about it. I’m worried.”
“All right, come on over to the office. I was going to get in touch with you anyway — I’ve had a couple of queries from Judge Gallagher. You may be able to answer them. Where are you?”
“On Bewick Avenue about three blocks from Catalpa.”
“Keep heading south and you’ll hit the freeway. It should take you fifteen minutes.”
It took twenty. She wasn’t used to California freeways, and on the other occasions when she’d gone to consult Ford someone else had driven her and she hadn’t paid much attention to the route.
Everything in Ford’s office had been designed to shut out the city, as if its noise might shatter a thought and its polluted air suffocate an idea. The picture window with its view of the harbor was double-plate glass, the ceiling was cork, the walls and floors were covered with thick wool. The chairs and the top of the massive desk were made of leather and even the ashtrays were of a non-resonant material, myrtle wood. The only metal in the room was the gold wedding band Ford wore to protect himself against overeager clients. He wasn’t married.
“Good morning, Devon,” he said. “Please sit down.”
“Thanks.” She sat down, a little puzzled. It was the first time he’d called her Devon. She knew it hadn’t been done on impulse, that years in the practice of law had left Ford with a minimum of spontaneity. What he said and did, even the gestures he made, seemed planned for hidden judges and secluded juries.
“So Carla Lopez has gone on a vacation,” he said. “Why should that bother you?”
“I’m pretty sure she went to Seattle.”
“Seattle, Peoria, Walla Walla — what difference does it make?” He stopped suddenly, frowning. “Wait a minute. Someone referred to Seattle during the hearing. The Estivar boy.”
“Jaime.”
“As I recall, it was simply a casual remark to the effect that one of his brothers worked in Seattle and had sent him money for Christmas.”
“The brother’s name is Felipe and Carla had a crush on him. She still has.”
“Who told you?”
“Carla herself. So did Jaime when I met him last night at the reservoir. He said that during the summer Carla worked for his family she made a play for all the brothers. The two older ones didn’t pay much attention but Felipe really twitched.”
“Twitched?” His shock was genuine. “Where did you get—”
“That’s the expression Jaime used.”
“I see.”
“Felipe left the ranch, and the area in general, more than a year ago.”
“Before or after the girl got pregnant?”
“Oh, I think after. She’s apparently been trying for a long time to get in touch with Felipe and no one would give her any information about him.”
“Did Jaime tell you that, too?” Ford asked.
“No. I overheard a conversation in the hall yesterday afternoon when I went to phone Mrs. Osborne. The phone booth was stuffy and I kept the door open a little. There were two people talking just outside. One of them was Carla, the other was the policeman, Valenzuela.”
“Ex-policeman.”
“Ex-policeman. He said something like ‘not knowing a thing about it until a few minutes ago.’ But she claimed he was lying to her the way the Estivars had. He warned her to stay away from the ranch and she told him she wasn’t afraid of the Estivars or the Osbornes or anyone else because she had her brothers to protect her.”
“What made you jump to the conclusion that they were referring to Felipe?”
“It wasn’t a very long jump. Carla had a crush on Felipe and the chances are he’s the father of her child. She’d naturally be angry if someone knew where he was and refused to tell her.”