“By law you’ll need to take a handgun safety course first. Takes about an hour, and I can ask Frank Reynolds, an old friend who owns the gun shop I use in Calabasas, to make time to give you guys one. We might be able to head over there now and get you some practice on the firing range.”
Mary Lisa said, “Perfect. What kind of gun should we get?”
“I carry a nine-millimeter SIG Sauer P239 semiautomatic. The P stands for personal, which means it’s small and light, and there’s not much recoil. The clip or magazine holds seven bullets.”
“What does nine-millimeter mean?” Lou Lou asked.
“Nine millimeters refers to the caliber-the size of the bullet. About a third of an inch. There are more powerful rounds, but if you aim it right, it’s enough to stop anyone.
“We’ll get you started at the firing range with the basics, like aiming at the largest part of an assailant who’s coming at you. Almost all shooting with a handgun is very close up. Of course a live person is more difficult than a target because live targets move around and they can shoot back.”
Mary Lisa said, “Yes, I understand that.”
“And respect, guys. You’ve got to respect your gun and you’ve got to respect what it can do.” Elizabeth searched both their faces, then nodded. She made a call on her cell, closed it, and tossed a ten on the table. “Okay, Frank says we’re on. Let’s head over to the range in Calabasas. You’re going to feel like Bruce Willis by tonight.”
FORTY-SEVEN
At midnight, after she’d gone over her lines for the next day so many times Mary Lisa figured she’d recite them in her dreams, she snuggled down, exhausted and mellow after an hour in the immense hot tub at Carlo’s house six doors down the street. Elizabeh had called her a natural at the firing range and surely that had to count for something. Though she felt tired, she found she couldn’t sleep-her mind kept churning, wouldn’t quiet down. And Jack was there, always there, and she marveled that he’d come into her life at such a time. Well, if she couldn’t sleep, it only seemed right the sexy bozo in Goddard Bay shouldn’t either. She dialed Jack’s cell number.
He answered on the fourth ring, his voice low and irritated. “If this isn’t an emergency, I’m going to bust your ass.”
“What if this were your mother?”
Silence, then, “You’re right. Not cool. What’s up, kiddo?”
“Has Detective Vasquez called you?”
“No. What happened?” His voice was alert now. She suddenly saw him sitting up in bed, chest bare, a sheet pulled up to his waist, or maybe it was real warm tonight in Goddard Bay, and he didn’t need a sheet. Maybe he was lying there, all sprawled out, every lovely inch of him nice and bare.
“Mary Lisa, you there?”
The picture tube in her brain went blank. “No, nothing’s happened. I thought Detective Vasquez might have told you something. You know, cop to cop. I know it’s late, but I couldn’t sleep. Another thing, I called you earlier this evening only you didn’t answer. What’s up? Where were you?”
His voice changed subtly. It was lighter, with a hint of amusement she immediately distrusted. “I was busy tonight and turned my phone off.” She could see that sexy grin of his, see it clear as day. “Now don’t think I didn’t check my messages, I did. I mean if someone had capped you, Daniel would have called a dozen times and I’d have called him back. Is that okay with you, Mom?”
“No, not okay, you jerk. Where were you?”
“Speaking of moms, did you know I ran into your mom this afternoon near the station? She actually stopped me in my car to tell me to keep away from Kelly, that her little darling was fragile and didn’t need me messing with her. Isn’t that a corker?”
So he wasn’t going to tell her what he was doing this evening. Maybe she could take him down on the beach again, and after she kicked him a couple of times, she could cover him like a spandex wet suit. “Why would Mom do that? I mean, why would she have to?”
“Well, Mary Lisa, I think Kelly may have told her she was going to come over to my office. I’d just gotten back from the D.A.’s office, tired and hungry, and she was waiting there to tell me she was making spaghetti and meatballs with garlic toast and spinach salad, and I should come over for dinner.”
Deep, dead silence. He had the nerve to laugh.
“I hope you enjoyed the meal.” You jerk. She disconnected.
Her phone rang three seconds later.
“Ouch. Don’t hang up again, Mary Lisa. Okay, the truth is I didn’t go to dinner with her, but I’ll tell you, it was tough to turn down. I was really hungry.”
“You’re a sorry excuse for a man.”
“Yes, well, uh, tell me, is it a beautiful night down there?”
“Oh, yes, it’s calm and warm. The moonlight is making the ocean glitter like there are diamonds strewn on top of it. Is it warm in Goddard Bay?”
“Nah, cold as January and fog thick enough to keep you indoors with some good home-cooked chili, wishing for someone to huddle up with for warmth.”
Cold as January? That meant pajamas or a blanket to his neck. That was a pity. “Well, don’t drive off a cliff in the fog,” she said, in a voice that sounded like she was going to hang up again.
“Wait a second, Mary Lisa, let me tell you what happened up here this afternoon.”
“Okay, what happened? You solve the case?”
“Not quite yet. Pitty Pat called me, said to come over to the Maynard house-that’s where the murdered son-in-law lived with his wife, Marci.”
“She’s living there by herself?”
“Yep. You’re not going to believe this.”
“Okay, hotshot, I’m all atwitter. What happened?”
Jack yawned really big, and Mary Lisa could swear he was scratching his belly. Her heart did a mad leap. “I pull in the driveway right behind John’s Beemer. He’s standing next to the living room window. He hears me, waves me over. He whispers, ‘Your timing’s perfect. Take a look.’”
He paused again-this time on purpose, for effect. “Have you ever thought of being an actor, Jack? That’s some timing shtick you’ve got there. Okay, what did you see?”
“The murdered husband’s widow-Marci-she was on her knees doing a Paris Hilton on her dead husband’s older brother, Mick.”
“What?”
“You remember Mick Maynard, don’t you? He owns a local auto repair shop on Indiana Avenue. He’s been divorced about three years now, his ex took the kids to live in Salem.”
“But that’s nuts!”
“Yeah, well, I’ll tell you John was so shocked he could hardly get enough spit in his mouth to say anything.”
“But why would Marci do that? I know I told you I didn’t like her in high school, but I wasn’t really all that serious. But this? I mean, her husband’s murdered, her father’s now murdered too-”
“Agreed.”
“Well, whatever the reason, you’re a couple of Peeping Toms, pretending it’s okay because you’re a cop. You’re disgusting, Jack Wolf.”
“Well, not really. It’s an investigation. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t necessary to look.”
She couldn’t help herself. “Okay, what happened?”
He had the gall to laugh at her.
“Come on, Jack, tell me you and John left immediately, tell me you didn’t keep looking.”
“Actually, we did stop looking. It felt too weird. We gave them another ten minutes since neither of us knew what-well, never mind that. Then we went to the door.”
“Wait a minute here.” Mary Lisa sputtered into the phone. “You said John called you to come over. Are you telling me she was on her knees for more than ten minutes?”
Jack grinned. “I wondered the same thing. John said there were lots of preliminaries. The main feature started a couple of minutes before I drove up.” He paused. “Do you want me to go on?”
She cleared her throat. “Please do.”