Henry’s back door was open and Killer was asleep on his mat, forcing me to step over him to tap at the screen. By now, I knew Killer was nothing but a big old baby, but you don’t want to startle an animal that size when it’s deep in the throes of a doggie dream. The other rule is you don’t want to get between a dog and what it wants to eat. That can make them cranky. Henry was in his rocking chair with his Black Jack over ice and the newspaper open in front of him. When he heard the knock, he called out, “Unlocked,” which I took as permission to enter.
He seemed both surprised and pleased to see me, setting his paper aside so he could get up and give me a dignified hug, which didn’t involve a lot of body contact. He’s eighty-nine to my thirty-nine, but we both know what it means to be circumspect.
He said, “Anna stopped by earlier and confessed that she’s the one in a family way, so I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t, but I accept anyway. What a scene. I was never so astonished in my life.”
“I can just imagine. That Robb woman’s behavior was so unseemly. And now all of them are embroiled in an impossible mess,” he said. His cheeks were tinted with embarrassment. “Pardon my bad manners. I should have offered you a glass of Chardonnay.”
“Thanks. I’d love one. Also a couple of ibuprofen if you have any on hand. I’m fresh out. I just finished a self-defense class and I’m hoping to head off a full-body lockdown.”
Henry returned to his rocking chair and folded the paper away. I was soon supplied with good white wine and over-the-counter pain meds, which generated a lengthy conversation about Ned Lowe and my dismay at learning he’d been living in the office crawl space under my feet. This reminded him to show me the new alarm panels, duplicates of those I’d had installed at the office.
“What’s Lucky up to?” I asked. “I didn’t see him as I was passing through the yard.”
“He’s gone off to Harbor House to sign up for a bed. He lost his when he was thrown out for drunkenness, which means he got sent to the end of the line. I don’t know how long it takes to work your way back up the waiting list, but he’s doing what he can,” he said. “I don’t suppose you ran into Pearl as you were coming in the gate.”
“Actually, I did. I gather she had a massive cake failure that threw her into a snit.”
“The woman has quite a temper. I tried to explain, but she said I was patronizing, so I gave it up,” he said. “At any rate, my present concern is your cousin Anna. What will she do?”
“I was just about to ask if she’d said anything to you.”
“She asked what I’d do in her place, but I refused to be drawn in. That’s not a decision she should make in haste, but from what she says, she’s running out of time. You’ve met her siblings up in Bakersfield?”
I nodded. “Ethan and Ellen. Both are married with three kids each and Anna looks on their lives with horror.”
“Is that your opinion as well?”
“Not at all. I saw Ethan with his kids and thought he was a good dad—just the proper mix of freedom and supervision. The problem is he’s a talented musician who’s missed out on the career he wants. There’s just no way for him to balance family life and the requirements of the road. I’m sure a lot of people manage, but he isn’t one. Ellen, I don’t know about. The point is, Anna views parenthood as a fatal trap.”
“Well, it’s too bad she doesn’t have a friend who could serve as a good example. A positive role model might make all the difference.”
Henry made supper for us: a green salad and cheese omelets with fresh herbs. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until I found myself back in the thick of conversation with him, catching up on life in general. I was home by nine. Before I did anything else, I got out my gun cleaning kit and sat at the kitchen counter. Once I was satisfied that it was immaculate and in good working order, I wrapped it in a clean cloth and locked it in the trunk at the foot of my bed. Then I crawled between the covers with every muscle in my body aching, but my heart at peace.
28
THE BLOWUP
June 1979
The drive up the pass took twenty minutes, not long at all when you felt like you were a million miles from town. As the road wound up the mountain, Santa Teresa was visible below, diminished to a distant crescent with the Pacific Ocean cradled in its curve. A marine layer hovered on the beaches, looking smoky and insubstantial. Just shy of the summit, Troy made the left turn onto Horizon Road, which threaded along a mountainous terrain that felt isolated and remote. The few houses they passed were set well back from the road on heavily wooded lots with little open space to spare. In places, vehicles were lined up nose-to-tail along the berm, attesting to the popularity of the area despite the fire hazard.
Sloan kept an eye on the house numbers, pointing out Austin’s when she spotted it on a metal mailbox posted near the road. Troy pulled his pickup into an empty spot, wheels tilted slightly against the hill. A few yards down the road, she could see Bayard’s car parked in much the same way, left front and rear tires hugging the slope. In front of Bayard’s car, she saw Poppy’s Thunderbird, and beyond that, Stringer’s van. Troy and Sloan trudged up the steep gravel driveway. Toward the top, much of the timber had been cleared, leaving generous expanses of open space under a bright sunny sky. Austin’s mother’s station wagon sat on a parking pad out front.
The Browns’ cabin was constructed with an exterior of half-logs, as if built by pioneers, though the house was probably fewer than twenty-five years old. She caught sight of the shake roof, which was doubtless fire resistant. Two stone chimneys flanked the main structure and a wide front porch was furnished with rustic bentwood chairs. The front door stood open and music was audible, emanating from the rear.
As she and Troy passed through the living room to the kitchen, they could see through the oversize sliding glass door that the parcel was flat and large enough to accommodate a swimming pool with stunning views down the mountain to the coast. The pool decking was Saltillo tile and sported a large stone barbecue at one end. An oversize Weber grill sat next to it. Kids were milling around the pool. Half the chaises longues were taken and the air smelled of Coppertone, pool chemicals, and an occasional whiff of dope.