Marty took out a handkerchief and wiped his face, which was glistening with perspiration. "We haven't done that so far. Good weather, the gals eat their lunch out here and grab a little sun. Bad days, they use the break room like they did at the old place, only this one's fancier."
"The break room? I didn't see that."
"I can show you on the way out."
Reba turned to me. "Everything okay?"
"Right behind you," I said.
The two started down the stairs. Grousing to myself, I'd done as she'd instructed, removing my keys and wallet from my bag, which I shoved behind a big potted ficus tree. I hoped she knew what she was doing because I sure as shit didn't. Looking back wistfully, I moved toward the stairs.
I caught up with them in what looked like a midsize kitchen. Sink, dishwasher, two microwaves, a side-by-side refrigerator-freezer, and two vending machines, one with soft drinks, the other with candy bars, potato chips, peanut butter crackers, cookies, packages of nuts, and other fatty snacks. There was a large table in the center of the room surrounded by chairs.
"Is this great?" she said.
I said, "Swell."
"You ready?" Marty asked me.
"Sure. I'm fine. It's been fun."
"Good. Let me get my briefcase and I can lock up."
The three of us proceeded down the hall toward the elevators. As Marty passed his office, he ducked out of sight and reappeared with his briefcase. Reba leaned around the door frame. "Nice office. Did you do this yourself?"
"Oh god, no. Beck hired a design firm to handle everything, except the plants. We have another company for those."
"Pretty highfalutin," she remarked.
We watched as Marty pushed the elevator button, calling the car from down below. While we waited, Reba pointed to a third elevator on the far side of the reception desk. "What's that one for?"
"Service elevator. It's mostly for hauling cartons up and down, file cabinets, furniture, stuff like that. We have fifteen, twenty firms on these three upper floors. That's a lot of office supplies and copy machines. Plus, the cleaning crew uses it when they come in."
"Bart and his brother still work weekends?"
"Fridays, same as ever. They'll be coming in at midnight," he said.
"Nice to know some things don't change. The rest is a major upgrade. Might know Beck would do that as soon as I'm out the door."
The elevator arrived and the doors slid open. Marty reached around and pressed the Door Open button while he entered the alarm system code on the keypad to the right. Reba displayed only cursory interest. Once the three of us got on, Marty released the button and pressed 1 for the first floor. We descended without saying much, all three of us watching the digital floor numbers flash from 4 to 3 to 2 to 1.
As we emerged, the doors to one of the two elevators in the alcove opened and a two-man cleaning crew emerged with their cart and loaded a vacuum cleaner, assorted brooms and mops, industrial-size bottles of cleaning solutions, and packets of paper toweling to resupply the restrooms. Both wore coveralls with a company logo stitched across the back. One gave Willard a nod and he returned a one-finger salute. Reba watched the two men cross the alcove and enter the service elevator.
"What are they up to?"
Marty shrugged. "Beats me. I think they work on two."
The doors closed behind them and the three of us continued to the entrance while Willard made a note of our departure time with the same blank stare he'd given us before. Marty didn't bother to nod his good-byes, but Reba gave Willard a merry finger wave. "Thanks, Willie. Nighty-night."
He hesitated and then lifted a hand.
"Did you see that? True love," she said.
We went down to the lower-level parking garage. At the foot of the stairs, Marty said, "I'm parked over here. Where're you guys?"
"That way," I said, pointing in the opposite direction.
Reba shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and watched him walk toward his car. "Hey, Marty?"
He paused and looked back.
"Think about what I said. You don't act soon, Beck's gonna have your nuts in a vise."
Marty nearly spoke, and then seemed to change his mind. He shook his head, his expression withdrawn, and turned on his heel.
She watched until he was out of sight and then the two of us walked the length of the garage.
"I didn't like the look of those cleaning guys," she said.
"Would you give it a rest?"
"I'm going on record. There's something bogus about them."
"Thanks for telling me. I'll put a note in the file."
When we reached the VW, I unlocked the door on my side, slid behind the wheel, and then leaned over and unlocked the passenger-side door for her. She got in and pulled the door shut, but when I went to insert the key in the ignition, she put her hand out. "Hang on a minute."
"Why?"
"Because we're not done yet. Soon as Marty pulls out, we can have another go."
"You can't go back up there. How're you going to pull that off?"
"We can tell Willie you left your shoulder bag upstairs and you have to have it back."
"Reba! You gotta quit this. You're going to screw up the government's case."
"It's the government that screws up. Look at the state we're in. The country's a mess."
"That's not the point. You can't violate the law."
"Listen to you, Miss Prissy Ass. What law?"
"Shall we start with breaking and entering?"
"That wasn't breaking and entering. We went up with Marty. He let us in of his own free will."
"And then you stole the keys."
"I didn't steal them. I borrowed them. I intend to put 'em back."
"It doesn't matter. I'm telling you, I'm through with this," I said. I turned the key in the ignition, shifted gears, and backed out of the space.
"Don't you want your bag?"
"Not now. I'm taking you home."
"Tomorrow morning, then, and I swear that'll be the end of it, okay? I'll pick you up at eight."
"Why so early? It's Saturday. The mall doesn't open until ten."
"We'll be long gone by then."
"Having done what?"
"You'll see."
"Uhn-uhn. No way. You can count me out."
"You don't come with me, I'll do it on my own. No telling what kind of trouble I'll get into."
I would have closed my eyes in despair, but I was already pulling up the exit ramp and didn't want to crash in my haste to get us out of there.
I turned right on Chapel. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reba pull something from her jacket pocket, saying, "Well, this is cool."
"What."
"Looks like I stole something after all. Naughty me."
"You didn't."
"Yes, I did. These are Beck's. I found 'em in his desk in that Mickey Mouse secret drawer. Must be planning to skip town, the little so-and-so." She was holding up a passport, a driver's license, and assorted documents.
Abruptly I pulled over to the curb, greatly annoying the driver of the car behind me, who leaned on his horn and made a rude hand gesture. "Give me those," I said, grabbing for them.
She held the documents out of my reach. "Hang on. This is the real deal here. A passport, birth certificate, driver's license, credit cards. 'Garrison Randell' with Beck's photograph. Must have cost a mint."
"Reba, what do you think's going to happen when he realizes that stuffs gone?"
"How's he going to know?"
"How about he looks in his drawer the minute he gets back? That's his means of escape. He probably checks the docs twice a day."
"You're right," she said. "On the other hand, why would he suspect me?"
"He doesn't have to suspect you. All he has to do is figure out who's been in. Once he gets a bead on Marty, it's over. Marty's not going to risk his neck on your account. You'll end up back in the clink."
She thought about that. "Well, okay. I'll put 'em back in his desk when I return Onni's keys."
"Thank you," I said, but I knew I couldn't take her at her word.
I dropped her at her place and rolled into my apartment at 11:15. The red message light was blinking on my answering machine. Cheney, I thought. There was something erotic in the very idea, and like one of Pavlov's dogs, I nearly whimpered in response. I pressed the button and heard his voice. Eight words. "Hey, babe. Call me when you get in."