I couldn’t afford a crack, and I damn well resented his trying to pry one open. We live in such a Jerry Springer world-everyone wants to go public with all their problems. Whatever happened to the virtue of circumspectness? When did we become such a nation of whiners?
Besides, I had work to do.
8
I was pissed as hell about being forced to report to O’Bannon’s house just so he could make sure I’d been behaving myself. At the same time, I knew if I didn’t appear, he’d jerk my tenuous little consulting position like the handle on a one-armed bandit. For now, I had to play it his way.
I left the top down and stoked myself on the night air. Did I mention that I love this city? People talk about New York and its nightlife, but for my money, Vegas has it beat. People crawled down Fremont till the wee hours of the morning, and for the most part, they enjoyed themselves, acting like kids, blowing money they don’t need, being royally entertained. Granted, our shows may not have the sophistication of Broadway, but people came to Vegas to have fun, not to get clubbed over the head with Pulitzer Prize-winning angst. And for the most part, the tourists were nice folks. Writers always portray them as seekers of sin, but what I see is mostly plain, decent folks who want to get away, play, gamble a little, gorge themselves at a buffet, and sleep sweet dreams.
While I drove, I called Lisa on my cell. To my surprise, she was home.
“How’s it hanging?”
“Oh, fine. I’m washing my nylons.” Which was code for no date. “I checked by your place but you were in absentia.”
“On my way to O’Bannon’s. He’s got me working a new case.”
She gasped a little. “Not those girls who-”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh, geez, Susan. Do you think you’re ready for this?”
I tried not to take offense. Anything she said arose from her concern about me. “Best thing. Keep me off the streets. How was your big date last night?”
“Ohh.” I didn’t have to see her to see her face falling. “Disappointing.”
“Not a tiger?”
“More like a lap dog.”
That was a new one. “I’m not sure I-”
“Visible tongue. Before my mouth was even open. I think I’m going to become a nun. Stop by on your way back?”
“I… it’ll probably be too late. Definite date for tomorrow?”
“All right. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Couldn’t be better. Couldn’t be better.”
By the time I got to O’Bannon’s, it was almost ten, but I hoped he’d cut me some slack since I’d been working like a busy beaver. I was surprised to find that kid of his on the front porch-sort of. He stood just off the edge of the concrete, about three feet from the door. His entire body was stiff, shoulders hunched, like he’d just been injected with a paralytic drug.
“Hey, Darcy,” I said, flashing my best smile.
“Do I know you?” he said, but his expression almost immediately brightened. He remained stiff. “I like your voice. You’re Dad’s friend from work.”
“Yup. He inside?”
“Yes…”
“Shall we go see him?”
It was difficult for him to speak, but when he finally started, the words burbled out in that strange voice of his, too loud, the inflection all askew. “Would you be afraid of spiders? Because some girls are afraid of spiders. Did you know some, a lot, a lot of girls are afraid of spiders?”
“I’ve heard that.”
“So, if, then, are you afraid of spiders?”
“Nah. I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Do you think that would be poisonous?”
He pointed downward. I didn’t see anything. “Can you be more specific?” I moved in closer and eventually realized there was a small gray spider on the front porch, barely noticeable. “I don’t think it can hurt us, Darcy.”
“Did you know there are four kinds of poisonous spiders indigenous to North America?” He was lecturing me, but he never made eye contact. “The widow spiders, the recluse spiders, the hobo spiders, and the yellow sac spider.”
“I’m fairly certain this little fella is none of the above.”
“You can never be sure. Sometimes they can trick you. Did you know that sometimes spiders can try to trick you?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I think that maybe we should go around to the back door.”
“Not necessary. I’ll take care of it.” I raised my foot, hovering over the offending obstacle.
“No!” Darcy fairly screamed. He raised his hands, flapping them in the air. “Don’t kill it!”
“I thought you were afraid…”
“I don’t like to hurt things. I don’t think anyone should hurt anyone, do you?”
“But… it’s a spider.”
“It’s still alive. Isn’t it still alive?”
“But eventually we need to get inside. Don’t we?”
“Maybe you could just… just…”
“Capture and release?”
“That would be good.”
I picked up a fallen leaf, slid one edge under the spider, and tossed it into the hedges.
“Will he be all right there?” Darcy asked.
“That’s its natural environment,” I assured him. “It’ll be like a kid in a candy store.” Judging from Darcy’s nonresponsive expression, I needed to modify my cliché. Abstract language was lost on him. “It’ll be like-what’s your favorite room in the house, Darcy?”
“The library.”
“It’ll be like you with a good book in the library.”
“Oh.” His head twitched a couple of times. “Good.”
“Can we go in now?” I looked back at the front door and found O’Bannon standing there, watching. “Chief.”
He pushed open the screen door. “Come on in. Darcy, why don’t you go finish your book?”
“Oh.” He seemed reluctant to leave. “Okay.”
Once we were alone, O’Bannon showed me into his den.
“Sweet boy you’ve got.”
“That’s one word for it.”