“And
“So, I went into this little village up there to get some things for Christmas. And I was paying for some stuff and I saw my airplane ticket in my wallet. I just started thinking. I saw the Denver bus, and went to the airport.”
“Your ticket is for San Francisco. They let a kid change a ticket?”
She winced. “I bought a new one.”
“With what money?”
“Dad gives me money.” She opened the front of her backpack and started pulling out wads of bills. “Everytime we do something, he gives me money. I said I wanted to take something home to you, so he asked me to pick out something from him, too. He gave me this.” She handed me a roll the diameter of a Havana cigar. I started counting fifties, quit when I realized I had more than five hundred dollars in my hand.
“Merry Christmas, from Dad,” she said.
“This is insane.”
“Dad’s having a tough time.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“How’s Aunt Emily?”
“She’s the same, Casey.” I kept out a fifty for Kareem and jammed the rest of the money back into her pack. I pulled her against me. I want to hold you for a minute before we talk about what a stupid stunt this trip was.”
“Could I just say I know it was dumb, and skip the lecture?” I laughed, so did Kareem.
“Kids,” he said, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t live without ‘em. But they sure do keep you hoppin’.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I woke up first. Casey was sprawled over more than her share of the bed, sound asleep, with a little drool drying at the side of her mouth. She’s too old and teenagery to cuddle in bed anymore. Risking her wrath, I brushed her long hair from her face and kissed her forehead. Then I dragged myself up.
My first coherent thought was that there were only two more days until Christmas. I had promised my mother I would be home in time. Now, with Casey here, I couldn’t think of many reasons to stay in L.A. any longer.
I wasn’t doing the investigation much good, but I still had some business to take care of Emily’s apartment needed to be closed up. Whatever had begun between Mike Flint and me needed some resolution. Both of those, I decided, might best be dealt with after the holidays. My film crew wasn’t leaving for Ireland until the middle of January. If I was very organized about preparations for the trip, I could maybe squeeze off a few days after the First and come back to L.A.
I went into the bathroom and pulled the tape off the gauze covering my stitches, losing a few hairs in the process. The stitches didn’t look too bad, but they were still stitches, so, after I combed my hair, I cut a new piece of gauze to cover them up again. I was taping the gauze down when Casey, yawning and stretching, came in and leaned against the sink beside me.
“What did you do to your head?” she asked, squinting without her glasses.
“I bumped it.”
“How?”
I looked at her sleepy face in the mirror. “The usual way. I was running from a man who was trying to shoot at me from Aunt Emily’s Volvo. When he fired the first shot, it set off a bomb in the car that had so much force that it set afire six cars, including Uncle Max’s BMW, threw me into the air and then dumped me on my head. That’s how.”
“Uh huh,” she yawned. “You always tell the stupidest stories, Mom.”
“I try my best to entertain you,” I said. “Feel like breakfast?”
“I’m starved.”
“Do you have anything to wear besides ski pants?”
“I have some jeans in my backpack.”
“Go call Daddy, then get dressed. We’ll use some of his money and eat out, anywhere you like.”
“What am I going to say to him?”
“Try the truth.”
“What if he gets mad?”
“Start crying and hang up. Always works for me.”
“You are so weird, Mom.” She went into Emily’s study and shut the door. I was sorely tempted to pick up the extension and eavesdrop. As I made up the sofa bed, I actually touched the receiver two or three times. It’s a good thing the conversation didn’t last very long, or I would have lost all self-respect.
Casey came out dressed in jeans and a blue sweater just the color of her eyes.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
She shrugged. “He apologized for Linda. He’s sending me a check.”
“A check for what?”
She raised her hands, perplexed. “You know the man better than I do.”
At least she was smiling again. She’s a resilient kid, but she’s taken a number of good bounces during the course of the last couple of years. I always worry that the next trauma will be one too many.
“Where do you want to eat?” she asked.
“How about, we call Uncle Max at the Bonaventure and have him join us,” I said. “He knows about his car, but I haven’t faced him yet. If you’re there, he won’t get as mad at me.”
“What happened to his car?”
“I told you. It burst into flames when the man driving Aunt Emily’s Volvo took a shot at me and set off a bomb.”
“Right,” she said, but the sarcasm held just a tinge of doubt.
“Moms don’t tell lies,” I said. I put my arm around her and led her out the door.
I called Max to meet us. Then Casey and I caught the Dash bus up to the Bonaventure on Figueroa. By the time we got there, Max had a table in the hotel coffee shop and had already ordered juice and coffee for us. When he spotted Casey behind me, he jumped up and wrapped her in a bear hug, swung her around a couple of times, imperiling a goodly number of water glasses and coffee cups with her long legs.
“You’re one hell of a good-looking kid, kid,” he said. “You look like a stretch model of your mother when she was your age. I think you’re going to be as tall as your Aunt Emily.”
Casey lifted a corner of her lip with dismay and looked at me. “How tall is Aunt Emily?”
“Six feet.”
“Gross.” She broke free of Max and slumped into a cushy chair. “I don’t like being taller than everybody.”
“You will,” Max said. He sat down and took one of her hands. “How was skiing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t say snow to me, and don’t mention skiing.”
He turned to me and laughed. “Deja vu. That’s you exactly at twelve. Chip off the old block, Maggie.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Glad to see you in such good humor, Max. After what happened to your car, I was afraid you would come gunning for me, too.”
Very swiftly, he became deadly serious. “My God, Maggot. Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?”
He leaned back and gave me a good going over. Then he smiled again. “You look a hell of a lot better than my car.”
“I’m sorry, Max,” I said.
“Forget it.”
Casey had been listening to this exchange while she drank her juice and then chased it with mine. “What did happen to your car, Uncle Max?”
“I told you,” I said.
“Let’s eat,” Max said. I saw a deep furrow appear between his heavy brows before he hid behind his menu. I touched his arm.
“You okay?”
“I think you should take Casey and go home, Maggie,” he said with a husky voice. “Every time I even think about what happened to you yesterday, or what might have happened…”
“If we can get a flight, we’ll leave L.A. this afternoon. Okay with you, Casey?”
“Sure.” She was looking between Max and me, borrowing Max’s serious mood.
“Let’s eat,” I said.
Casey ate eggs Benedict, a short stack of pancakes, a side of bacon, and finished my bran muffin. Max, lingering over half a grapefruit and dry whole-wheat toast, watched her with amusement.
“Want some dessert, Casey?” he asked when she folded her napkin beside her plate.
“Dessert for breakfast?” she asked brightly.
“He’s teasing,” I said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. I saw this shop in the lobby. Can I go look?” “Go ahead. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”