“I could smell it on him.”
“I wish you’d spoken up. I’m setting here chatting away with him, friendly as all get-out.”
Lucky said, “You’re too trusting, Pearl. I told you that before. What if he had went for you?”
“He can’t choke me. I got more neck than he can get his hands around. He shows up again, I’ll punch his lights out,” she said. “Which direction was he headed?”
“Left on Cabana.”
“Tell you what. Tomorrow, I’ll put the word out among my homies and have ’em keep an eye out. He might’ve checked into one of the cheap motels near the railroad tracks or be sleeping on the beach. Might even be holed up in that hobo camp the Bogarts was using before they got run off.”
The Bogarts were a tight gang of vicious thugs who had staked out the off-ramp for their panhandling.
“This guy is a nasty piece of work,” I said. “If you spot him, call the police. Don’t take anything on yourself.”
“I wouldn’t mess with the likes of him. We’ll track him down, though. Don’t you worry. He’s anywhere around here, we’ll find him.”
I let myself into the studio, where I did a perimeter search to make sure all the locks were secured. I took the stairs two at a time and retrieved my H&K VP9 from the locked trunk at the foot of my bed. While I’d brushed up on my shooting skills, I wasn’t convinced I’d have to protect myself, so I’d tucked the gun away for safekeeping. Now I checked the load and took out my holster and my shoulder harness, which I strapped into place, resting my semiautomatic in the shelter of my armpit. I pulled on a windbreaker over my turtleneck and studied myself in the mirror. What was my plan? I pictured spending my days toting an H&K VP9 under my left boob. I could just see myself at the grocery store, reaching for a carton of milk, with the butt of the gun peeking out. If I locked it in the glove compartment of my car, the gun would be just as unavailable as it was locked in the trunk at the foot of my bed. The same was true of my desk at the office. If I wasn’t willing to carry it on my person, what good would it do? I grabbed my flashlight, which was sturdy enough to use as a weapon in a pinch, and then I sallied forth and double-timed it up to Rosie’s.
Despite happy hour, the tavern was largely empty. On Monday and Tuesday nights, the crowd was usually light. Business picked up toward the middle of the week, Wednesday being hump night. By the weekend, the place would be jammed. Rosie was sitting at the bar, reading the local paper, which we all referred to as the “low-cal” Dispatch, for its paucity of coverage, most of it lifted from the wire services. I quizzed her to make sure my “friend” hadn’t been in earlier asking about me. She was well acquainted with the details of my encounter with Ned Lowe and assured me she’d be on the alert.
Jonah had just gotten up from a table where Anna Dace was sitting and I watched him shrug into his jacket in preparation for the drive home.
I crossed the room. “Ned Lowe’s back,” I said without preamble.
He paused as he was turning down his collar. “Since when?”
“I’m not sure. Yesterday afternoon my office alarm went off. Someone broke a kitchen window trying to get in. The alarm company called the cops and the officer who came out found the rock he used. A few minutes ago I saw a man in a raincoat turn the corner from Albanil onto Cabana. I can’t swear it was him, but it’s a good bet. He’d already stopped by my studio asking for me. Fortunately, Pearl and a pal of hers were there. She’s camping in Henry’s backyard, and for once I’m happy for the company.”
“Let me talk to the watch commander and I’ll get back to you. He can step up patrols in the area. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’m not going to sleep well until you find him.”
“Shouldn’t be that tough if he’s in the area. I’ll see that a BOLO goes out and maybe we can sweep him up,” he said. “You want me to walk you home?”
“I need to sit and collect myself.”
“Understood. You take care. I’ll call you the minute I hear anything.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Hey. I almost forgot to ask. How’d your meeting go?”
I blanked on him. “What meeting?”
“With Lauren McCabe.”
For a moment, I was stumped. There was no way I could tell him about the tape or the blackmail demand. “Good. It was fine. I met Hollis and Fritz,” I said, as though that were relevant.
“She putting you to work?”
“We’re still discussing it,” I said. If he asked a direct question about what sort of work it was, I’d have to stonewall or lie, which I prefer not to do with friends. He would understand my being protective of a client, but I felt the less said about it the better. “How are Courtney and Ashley? I haven’t seen them lately.”
“Camilla doesn’t want them coming in. She says this is a low-life dive and they have no business being here.”
“She makes herself right at home, I note.”
“She’s an adult. They’re impressionable girls.”
“Come on. An occasional visit doesn’t do any harm. You know Rosie keeps an eye on them.”
“I told her the same thing. She’ll loosen up, I suspect, and in the meantime, they’re making themselves scarce, which I should probably do myself,” he said. “Good seeing you.”
“You, too.”
He gave Rosie a wave on his way out. Anna remained where she was, nursing a gin and tonic, her attention focused on a Cosmopolitan magazine.
Rosie appeared behind me with a glass of bad white wine without even being asked.
“Bless you,” I said.
“I’m keeping baseball bat behind bar. That guy comes in, I make him sorry in the head.”
I got up and gave her a hug, which surprised both of us. “Thank you. I mean it. Go for the knees first,” I added under my breath.
As Rosie moved away, I turned my attention to Anna. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Help yourself. What was that about?”
I took a seat. “It looks like Ned Lowe is back,” I said. I repeated my story about the broken office window and the sighting of the man in a raincoat. I noticed a certain relief in the telling, as though the repetition took the sting out of the two incidents. “Pearl tells me a ‘friend’ stopped by looking for me shortly before I got home tonight.”
“Oh, man. That’s not good.”
“What about you? How are you doing? You look depressed.”
“Who, me? Not a bit. I’m not the one being stalked.”
“Jonah said he’d put out the word, but that’s not much help.” I drained half a glass of wine that went down like water with about the same effect. No wonder people get in trouble with this stuff.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I wish I knew. I’ll step up security measures, but I haven’t decided yet if I should carry my gun. I used to park it at the small of my back, but that’s Ned’s favorite spot. I might buy pepper spray, which is effective as long as you don’t shoot your own sorry self in the face.”
A shudder went down her frame. “We ought to walk home together.”
“Sounds good to me. You ready to go?”