Other, fancier restaurants than Binnie’s came and went, but Binnie’s was part of the community, a constant favorite with its roasted-vegetable pizzas and seafood pastas and locally made wines and beers. A few years ago, Binnie’s had redecorated, shocking the old-timers with bright abstract murals that covered the walls and ceiling and even the tabletops. Every surface became a feast of color, every chair a work of art painted differently. The effect was cozy and welcoming, a warm and cheerful retreat.
On this chill spring evening, Ryan Flannery entered Binnie’s as Roman Slayter held the door for her in his most courteous manner. Having erased a dozen of Slayter’s messages from her machine over the last four days, Ryan had at last given in, driven by curiosity at Slayter’s latest message. She knew the taped message was a ruse, but she couldn’t resist: “I think I know something about this burglary, Ryan. The jewelry store? Some facts� Well, I don’t want to go to the police myself. I can’t explain exactly why. You’d have to trust me on that. I thought if you passed on the information, it might be helpful�”
Oh, right, she thought. What kind of scam is this? But still, she had to know what he would say.
He’d reserved a table at the back, complete with a little bowl of flowers and a candle. Pulling out her chair for her, then folding his slim six-foot-four frame onto a red-and-blue ladderback bench, Roman grinned at her, his brown eyes more familiar than she liked. He was wearing a tan cashmere sport coat over a black shirt and cream slacks. A flashy gold Rolex watch gleamed on his tanned wrist, and he wore some kind of gold signet ring with an onyx stone.
Up at the ranch, she hadn’t noticed his jewelry, she’d been too angry and then too shocked at Rock’s chameleon behavior. She still didn’t understand what had gotten into Rock. She’d seen him, too many times, threaten to attack strange men who approached her. Tonight, she’d dropped the big dog off at Clyde’s before Clyde got home from work. Had left a message on Clyde’s machine. She hoped he didn’t mind keeping Rock. It had been days since she’d seen him, and he hadn’t once called her. She probably could have left Rock at home, he was much more dependable than when she’d first taken him in. But even now, when left alone, he was still inclined to panic and tear up the yard or the furniture.
Slayter had ordered wine as they were seated. Now she glanced briefly at her menu, then sat watching him. “What did you have to tell me? What was so urgent?”
Slayter had begun to speak when the waiter approached, uncorking a nice merlot. He remained silent, nodding and tasting at the right moments. Ryan watched the little ritual impatiently The dark-haired young waiter was nervous, was probably new at this-one of Binnie’s many nephews, young men who had, over the years, worked in the restaurant while they were in high school or college. She kept a cool gaze on Roman.
When the waiter left, Slayter lifted a little toast to her, which she ignored. “The night of the burglary,” he said, “I saw a woman running� Not from the store itself, but from that direction, that block.” His brown eyes never left her, a soft, disingenuous look, concerned and innocent. He’d apparently just had a haircut, she could see the tiny white line below his neat, dark hair-and he smelled of some expensive, musky aftershave. “Just as the sirens started, I saw her running down the street from the direction of the jewelry store, keeping to the shadows. She was carrying a small black bag, a shapeless cloth pouch that bulged at the bottom. She was darkly dressed, with a hood pulled around her face. Running south, away from Ocean.
“Two blocks south of Ocean she ducked into a driveway, old shingled cottage next to a two-story house on Doris, that Spanish-style place with a new shake roof.”
Ryan startled. That was Clyde’s house, Slayter had to know that. It was the only two-story house for several blocks south of Ocean, the only house with a new shake roof. She looked at Slayter, frowning.
Could the woman he saw, if he had seen anyone, could that be Clyde’s blond neighbor? She didn’t know what Slayter was up to, but she didn’t think she wanted to hear this.
No matter how much she disliked that woman, she liked even less what she was hearing.
“I was just headed back to the motel after dinner,” Roman said. “Heard the sirens and turned up there instead.” He gave her a boyish smile. “Idle curiosity. Rubbernecking, I guess. She ran into the driveway of the brown house, disappeared at the back, I heard a door close somewhere at the back. There was a woman in the front of the house, watchingTV,I could see her silhouette through the shade.”
Ryan frowned. She’d thought Chichi was staying there alone, that the owners were up in the city. “If you thought she was running from the burglary, why didn’t you call the police? Why are you telling me?”
“I� I was in some trouble not long ago,” Roman said diffidently. “Not of my doing, but the police thought it was. I� didn’t want to get involved. The police�”
“You could have called them anonymously. They might have caught her. Might even have recovered the jewels.” She watched him intently. “What is this, Roman? What kind of scam is this?”
“It isn’t a scam, Ryan. What would I get out of tipping youoff?I saw her and thought I’d pass it on. Well�” Roman leaned closer over the table, “I think she’s a friend of your friend, I think she lives next door to him. I didn’t want to make trouble for someone you’re fond of.”
The hell you wouldn’t, she thought. “Why would that make trouble for him? Are you implying that Clyde’s involved?” Ryan did her best not to laugh in his face. “You’re going to have to spell it out.” What scared her was that he’d taken great pains to learn about Clyde, to learn who she was seeing. She watched the waiter set down their antipasto and salad and refill their wineglasses.
“I thought maybe your friend� That this might touch you in some way, that you wouldn’t want to�”
She rose, shoving back her chair so hard it fell clattering to the floor. “Call the police, Roman! Tellthem.This has nothing to do with Clyde, or with me! If you have information, call the department!
“Unless you want to be charged with withholding information,” she added hotly. And she stormed out of the restaurant, her stomach churning with anger-and with disappointment at abandoning Binnie’s shrimp-and-ham linguini.
Heading for Clyde’s to pick up Rock, she did her best to simmer down; but she was still steaming when she knocked softly on Clyde’s door. One light was on in the living room; looked like the reading light by Clyde’s chair. She could hear a Dixieland CD playing. At her knock, she expected Rock to bark and then to catch her scent and whine, but she heard neither. “Clyde? It’s me, it’s Ryan.”
He opened the door, scowling. He didn’t move back out of her way, but stood blocking her entry.
“Where’s Rock? I�”
“Have a nice evening?”
“What’s wrong? Is there� Clyde, where’s Rock? I brought him� Is he all right? Did you get my message?”
“He’s in the backyard where you left him.”
She stared at him. “What’s he done? What are you mad about?”
There was a long silence. Clyde stood frowning. She stared at him, and began to laugh. “You’re mad! Mad because I�” She pushed past him into the room, and turned to look at him. She took his hand and, against his mild resistance, led him to the couch, pulled him down to sit beside her. She was still holding his hand.