“I hope you don’t think either one of them is behind the threat to the McCabes.”
“Not at all. I’m just hoping one or the other has something useful to contribute. I’d also like to talk to Patti, Steve Ringer, and Roland if you’ll put me in touch with them.”
“Of course.”
I gave her my business card, and in exchange, she gave me the requisite names, addresses, and phone numbers. Having just added five players to the list, I couldn’t claim I was narrowing the field, but the focus was getting sharper.
20
THE POOL PARTY
June 1979
Sloan ran the usual circuit of roads in Horton Ravine with Butch prancing along at her side. She kept him on a lead though it wasn’t necessary. He was accustomed to her rhythm and her pace and he enjoyed the morning air as much as she did. She preferred making the run early, six o’clock at the latest, but that morning she’d slept in, a rare luxury for her. The school year was over, and in another two weeks, she would take on her responsibilities as a junior counselor at the church camp, which was located twenty-five miles north in the Santa Ynez Valley. The meadows at the campsite would be sunny and hot, smelling of sage and bay laurel. It would be cooler in the shadow of the mountains, though the creek beds would be dry and any remaining grass would be parched to a yellow haze.
At eight that morning, her parents had left for Tucson to pick up Justin and Joey, Paul’s sons from his first marriage. The boys were thirteen and fifteen and they would be attending the first two-week session of church camp, which they’d done the previous three summers. In the meantime, the plan was for the four of them—Margaret, Paul, and the two boys—to head north from Tucson to the Grand Canyon, where they’d spend a few days exploring before they returned to Santa Teresa. Sloan was happy to be on her own. She had a summer reading list and looked forward to spending her days in the hammock on the back patio with Butch asleep in the shadow of the netting. She and Bayard had mapped out a bike trip, but the departure date was a week away.
She’d reached Randall Road, which went uphill in a long, slow arc that would put her back in range of the house. She was panting from the climb, sweat trickling down the side of her face and accumulating at the small of her back. She heard a vehicle coming up behind her, Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” blaring at top volume. She veered to the right and glanced back as Troy’s pickup truck came into view. Austin’s head and right shoulder extended from the passenger-side window as he beat time on the truck side with the flat of his hand. Troy slowed and then kept pace with her, peering at her across the front seat while Austin smiled at her lazily as she jogged.
He said, “Pool party. End of school. My parents offered the use of the cabin, so we came to ask if you’re free.”
“Today?”
“You’re entirely correct.”
She came to a halt, breathing heavily, leaning over with her hands on her knees. She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re inviting me. Last time we spoke, we were at each other’s throats.”
“My fault entirely. Far as I’m concerned we have a truce. I called off the shunning, so that’s a done deal. Hand over the tape and we’re square. Everything turns out to the good.”
“What brought this on?”
“This is me behaving like a grown-up. You can do the same. You already have a head start on me. So what do you say?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Come on, kiddo. No hard feelings, okay?”
“We just forgive and forget?”
“Why not? It’s summer. Life’s too short to hassle. You have something else on your busy social calendar?”
“Nope. My folks are gone. I’d have to feed the dog and take a shower.”
“No problem. We’re making a grocery run and then we’ll pick up a keg. I’m taking Mom’s station wagon. Troy can swing by to pick you up in an hour. Bring your bathing suit.”
“Where’s the cabin?”
“Up the pass on the 154. Horizon Road goes off to the left shortly before the summit. The cabin’s another two miles down.”
“Give me the address and I’ll meet you there. I’d rather take my own wheels.”
“Won’t work. Parking’s limited. We’re keeping the number of cars to a minimum so the neighbors won’t raise a stink. Stringer’s bringing a crew in his van. Maybe a dozen of us altogether, so it should be fun. We can party into the wee hours if we so desire.”
She wasn’t really in the mood, but it seemed churlish to decline when he was offering peace. It wasn’t as though her time was spoken for. “Okay, but I can’t stay long. Couple of hours.”
“No biggie. Poppy has a family thing, so she’s leaving at four. I’m sure she’d be willing to give you a ride.”
“That should work. Can I bring anything?”
Austin shook his head. “Thanks, but we’re covered. Ciao!”
The two sped off and Sloan stared after them with Butch looking up at her in happy anticipation. Whatever she did, he was up for it, ready, willing, and able. She met his eyes with a smile. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home.”
The two jogged slowly the remaining distance to the house.
She took him to the backyard, where she freshened his water, filled his bowl with kibble, and left him munching noisily as she secured the gate. He’d be fine in the backyard for a couple of hours. His dog house was close by and he could take shelter from the sun if he needed to.
She went into the house through the back door and took the stairs two at a time, peeling off her T-shirt. She considered taking the tape to the party, but decided to leave it where it was until she was sure Austin was sincere. He was capable of manipulating anyone, but if he meant what he said, she was willing to make the deal. He was right about life being too short. Fighting took energy and she had better things to do.
Once showered and dressed, Sloan was about to dry her hair when she heard the doorbell ring. Shit. Troy was early. She set aside the hair dryer and secured her mane of damp hair on the top of her head with a big plastic clip. She anticipated an afternoon swim, so there was no point in worrying about it. She tucked her hairbrush in the gym bag with her bathing suit and carried it with her as she trotted down the stairs. When she opened the front door, instead of Troy, she found Poppy standing on the porch. She seemed thinner, her T-shirt and shorts hanging loosely on her delicate frame. Her pale hair was parted in the middle, the long strands wispy and thin. She had her car keys in hand and her 1955 pale green Ford Thunderbird parked in the drive. Her parents had given her the two-seater the September when she turned sixteen. She’d twice flunked the written portion of her driver’s test and therefore didn’t have her learner’s permit, so Sloan ended up driving the car before she did. That was a lifetime ago, when everything between them was fine.
She and Poppy were still technically friends, but the distance between them was palpable. She put on a bright smile. “Hey. This is a surprise. How are you?”