“Look.” Trying to sound reasonable. “Aren’t you only like twenty or thirty feet from his room? Can’t you just walk across-?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to leave the nurse’s station. You can just press pound and leave a message. I’m sure he’ll get it.”
“I pressed pound the last time and it got me disconnected.”
“That’s not really very likely. If you’ll hold, I can just transfer you myself.”
With great reluctance, Tamara found herself saying, “All right. We can try that. Thank you.”
A click, then an ominous emptiness sounded at her ear for about five seconds before Tamara heard a chirpy three-toned, high-pitched ring, and then a metallic, disembodied voice: “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and-”
“God damn it!” She slammed the phone back onto the receiver. Swearing a blue streak, she walked into the kitchen, made an about-face, came back to the telephone, picked it up about a foot, and slammed it down again. Then she turned and stared at the door to her apartment.
“And while we’re at it,” she said aloud to no one, “where the fuck are you, Jim?”
25
The drugs were beginning to wear off, but when Mickey opened his eyes, for a minute he thought he might be hallucinating. “Alicia? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Your sister told me what happened.” She sat in a chair near the head of his bed. Beyond her, he caught a glimpse of the wall clock-eight forty-five. “You look really beat up.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Are you okay?”
“They say I’m going to live. But she really nailed me. The other driver, I mean.” He closed his eyes briefly, opened them again. Yep, Alicia was still there. “You didn’t have to come down here,” he said. “I’m glad you did, but-”
“I had to see you,” she said.
“Well, you came to the right place. I don’t seem to be going anywhere soon.”
“I have to talk to you. Can we do that?”
He abandoned the flippancy. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
“Because your boss told you not to?”
Mickey went to shake his head, but with the pain didn’t get far. “He didn’t exactly tell me not to. He just said it would be dumb.”
“Why? Does he say I killed Dominic too?”
“He says he’s keeping an open mind. But he does believe the cops are thinking that way. So Tam and I ought to watch out too.”
“Mickey.” She reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “I swear to you. I didn’t have anything to do with that. Or with Nancy Neshek either. I promise.”
“All right.”
“Please tell me you believe me.”
Mickey drew in a breath. Here, indeed, was the crux. He didn’t need to consciously recall the many discussions he’d had with Tamara in the wake of the boyfriend who’d betrayed her and Wyatt Hunt and everyone else he’d known. Those conversations were by now part of his DNA. Even Mickey had considered Craig a good guy, possibly a future brother-in-law, and a fine choice at that.
And now here Mickey was, in an analogous situation with a woman for whom he had an attraction that was-no other word for it-dangerous. And still, knowing everything he did, he was thinking about committing in the same way his sister had committed.
More than thinking about it.
Almost without conscious volition, he found himself answering her. “I do believe you,” he said. “You didn’t kill anybody.”
At his words, her eyes teared up and she put her head down, resting it against the side of the bed. Her shoulders rose and fell a couple of times before she looked up at him again. “How can I ever thank you?”
“Don’t worry about that. The big question is what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any idea. That’s why I came here. To ask you. I think they’re going to arrest me. I can’t let myself get arrested, Mickey. I really can’t.”
“You think they’re that close?”
She nodded. “I don’t know what they need, but they asked me if I had any plans to travel outside the Bay Area anytime soon. If you want my opinion, I think I’m their main suspect.” She moved her chair closer in to the bed, and now spoke in a near whisper. “I didn’t go in to work today. I didn’t want them to know where to find me.”
“You think they’d arrest you down there? At Morton’s?”
“Why not? That’s where they questioned me the first time.”
Mickey hesitated, following the inexorable logic of what must have been true. “So you’re out of your room too?” he asked.
She didn’t seem surprised at the question. “I grabbed some stuff as soon as they left and threw it in my car.”
“So where are you going to go from here?”
“Mickey”-she hesitated-“I don’t have anyplace to go. My brother’s the only family I’ve got, and I know they’d look for me at his place. I’d just been sitting out by the beach until I heard from Tamara. Then finally I decided I needed to come in here. To ask you to help me.”
In spite of himself, Mickey’s chest heaved as a bitter laugh began, then stopped with the clutch of his broken ribs. Wincing, he moved his right hand over to cover them.
“Mickey?”
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” He puffed out a quick breath, then another. “Just enjoying the humor in you thinking I could help you. Especially how I am right now.”
“But I know you can.”
He closed his eyes and took a beat to think. She wanted him to help her, was begging him to help her. She was not who they thought she was, and he might be her only hope left. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze. “Look, Alicia,” he said. “This is a little town. How long do you think you can hide from them if they really want to find you? A couple of days? A week? A month? And do you really think that doing that will make it better for you when they do find you? Even if you could avoid them for a little while, you’d just be making it worse.”
“I don’t care if it’s days or a week, Mickey. I need some time. And they need some time to look at other suspects.”
“So you were parked all day out at the beach?”
“Right.”
“You don’t think they’ve got the plates on your car?”
“I don’t know.” Then, realizing the obvious, “They would, wouldn’t they?”
“You can bet on it. You might as well have gone in to work. You’re in that car, they got you.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Have you used your cell phone?”
“Sure. To call work and say I was sick. Then your house, and then when Tamara called me back. And then Ian, just to let him know where I was.”
Slowly, now, slowly, against the pain, Mickey shook his head. “You can’t use your cell phone, Alicia. They can locate you by that.”
“They can?”
A small smile. “It’s a rough environment for fugitives out there.”
“But I’m not a fugitive. I’m not under arrest. Not yet, anyway.” She brought her hands up to her forehead, rubbed it, brought her hands back down. “They’re just not looking in the right places, Mickey. They can’t be. They’ve got to be missing something. This was what we talked about when we first got together, you remember? You were going to investigate the murder, now murders, and not let them land, finally, on me. You remember that, don’t you? That’s what this was all about, right? Was I making all that up?”
The details still fresh in his mind, Mickey experienced again the rush of those moments when he’d determined that his plan could resuscitate the dying Hunt Club while at the same time give him an opportunity to get to know this woman. This remarkable woman. This woman with whom he could see himself.
Well, he’d done the Hunt Club part. It had its new clients and its reward billings. His efforts had, at least for the time being, even brought his sister back from the edge of anorexia, returned to her some of her sense of self-worth. All that was left was in some respects, the personal respects, the most important part.