“I just don’t see how anyone on the move all the time can be happy.”
“I don’t see how anyone standing still can be happy.”
“Try having a child,” Nina said. “You put down a root. You feel the wet earth. You don’t want to skitter along the surface anymore.”
“Very poetic,” Mick said. “However, no offense, you move plenty yourself, from man to man and place to place, and I might even hypothesize that your heat on this subject has to do with your own lifestyle. I’m not feeling this rootedness from you that you talk about.”
Nina did not like hearing this. He was turning her judgment back on her. And it was stingingly accurate.
“Touché,” she said.
“Furthermore, there is a hot babe waiting for me at a certain Mexican restaurant. Still friends?”
“Enjoy your dinner.”
“I’ll send you a bill.”
So dinner was on her. She drove to Matt’s with her comforter and pillow, drank a glass of wine in front of a big fire with him and Andrea, and fielded their questions, and really, she wanted to be depressed about Mick and men in general, but she nodded off early and didn’t get around to it.
December 15 rolled around. Christmas shoppers had joined the skiers along Lake Tahoe Boulevard. There was art of the carved-grizzly-bear variety, turquoise jewelry, sporting goods including the new snowshoes that left your heels free, denim jackets with sequins for the slot-machine players, snowmobile rentals. The casinos brought in heavy hitters for the season and vacancy signs disappeared. The concrete pools of summer held three-foot drifts and the white walls along the road were higher. Every inch of snow was a million-dollar windfall for the resorts, and it looked like a heavy winter.
The lawyers took their cut in traffic accidents, divorces, and business disputes. Sandy tried to fit in the new business. She knew that the courthouse would go as dark as a playless Broadway theater around the twentieth.
“If I were a serial killer, this would be the time,” she remarked to Nina the next morning.
Nina said, “I sent Bob’s presents to Germany this morning. Some clothes, a book, and a stuffed bear. Like he was still three years old.”
“This case’ll be over by Christmas.”
“If it isn’t, I’ll be separated from him.”
“You’ll come to Markleeville and eat with Joseph and me and the family.”
“That would be nice.”
“We do spaghetti on Christmas Eve. You’ll like it.”
“That’s nice. Thanks.”
The phone rang, and Sandy answered.
“Just a moment.” She wagged her head toward Nina’s office, and Nina went in, shut the door, and picked up.
“Ms. Reilly?”
“Yes?”
“The name is Branson. We met in Boston.”
Oh, no, not Branson. She had hoped Branson would not flap his leathery wings so far west.
“I am of counsel to the firm in Palo Alto that will be handling your suit against XYC. We would like to meet with you before this goes any farther.”
“Come on up.”
“We realize you are a busy lady. Could we fly you down tomorrow for a meeting?”
“Fly me down?”
“A private plane will be waiting at the Tahoe airport at eleven. I believe that’s only a few miles from your office.”
“True.” The Tahoe airport served only private pilots these days.
“We could have you back by four at the latest. It’s just a jaunt. I guarantee you a good lunch.”
“What is the purpose of this meeting?”
“To get to know each other. And see if something can be worked out.”
It was ear candy to a lawyer. Nina said, “I’m looking at my schedule now. It does appear that I could clear my calendar.”
“Very good. Just go out onto the landing strip at eleven and look for the blue-and-white Cessna.”
“Okay.”
“See you then.” Branson’s manner had been completely proper. Nina thought to herself: Ally? Or enemy?
Now, why in the world would she even begin to think of him as an ally? Cockeyed Irish optimism was the only way to explain it. She would gird her loins firmly on the morrow, assuming for purposes of argument that women have loins, and that girding would not involve tight spandex.
Tonight she was back home, Wish playing video games on her computer in the kitchen. Wish didn’t seem to mind acting as her shadow, and she was glad to have him. She had her couch to sit on, he had the yellow office chair by the refrigerator, and they were getting used to each other.
The phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Wish said, and picked up. “It’s a lawyer.”
“Nina?”
“Betty Jo?”
“We need to talk to you. Me and Jimmy. Right away.”
“It’s late, and I’d like to know how you got my home phone number,” Nina said.
“Everybody has your phone number. Jimmy got it off PrivateEye.com. And I know it’s late.”
“What is it?”
“Jimmy was attacked tonight. He wants to tell you about it. He was in the Ace High office taking over for Meredith, who by the way is in jail for obstructing justice, thank you very much. A man in a mask. It’s bizarre. You have to hear this.”
“I appreciate your call, but I’m confused. We’re on opposite sides, and-”
“Pish-tosh. You have to hear this.”
“Has he called the police?”
“They came and went already. I’m here in the office with him. Can you come down?”
“I’m on my way.” She hung up and said, “Wish, would you come with me? The Ace High had an incident today.”
“Let me lace up my boots.” He was already shutting down the computer. Nina pulled her parka and boots on over her jeans and they piled into the Bronco.
Adrenaline moved through her veins. She found herself talking to the shooter again. You’re here, all right, she thought. You won’t get me or mine. I’ll get you.
The No Vacancy sign lit up the frosty night. Someone, probably Meredith, had set out plastic reindeer on either side of the entry to the Ace High office. Their noses flashed on and off. The door moved heavily with its jingling wreath as Betty Jo let them in. She looked behind them, left and right, ready to slam it in their faces if anything moved.
And that ain’t good, Nina thought to herself.
Locking and testing the door, Betty Jo said, “I thought you might be able to help me figure this out.”
“How is he?” James Bova lay on a couch in the dark on his back, a pillow under his head. He held something to his nose.
“Broke it,” Betty Jo said. “Got kicked in the belly, too. I just spent two hours at Boulder Hospital with him. Nothing got kicked out of him, he’ll recover, but he wanted to talk to you right away.” Betty Jo turned on a low lamp and Wish checked the windows to make sure the blinds were fully shut. He hadn’t said a word. He took up a position in the corner and Nina was aware that her back was covered.
“Mr. Bova?”
Nina moved closer. Bova’s eyes opened. They were swollen above the bandages and he would have twin shiners in the morning. “It’s all your fault,” he said, moving his mouth with difficulty.
“That’s what they all say,” Nina said. “How do you feel?”
“Vicodin. I’m going to sleep pretty soon.” He moved a little and grimaced, but the drug was keeping him comfortable.
“He’s goin’ home with me,” Betty Jo said. “Hector borrowed the neighbor’s Rottweiler just in case we’re followed. That makes three animals in the house. Nobody’ll get through. Let’s make this quick. Jimmy just met Mr. Lee Flint.”
“He waltzed into the office,” Bova said. “Ski mask. Brown with yellow around the eyes. I knew right away it had to be the same guy. I tried to call 911, but he pushed me against the wall and started beating me. Not talking, just hitting. He broke my nose and blood was spurting all over him. I thought he was going to beat me to death. I’ve got two kids in Sparks. I didn’t want to die.”
Nina had arrived with the usual suspicions-maybe Bova had faked an attack, maybe Betty Jo was pulling something-but seeing Bova now, hearing him, it was plain that someone had set out to hurt him.