Jessica rolled back over to Mabel’s desk. “Who is it? Who’s streaking?”
“I’ll send a deputy to take care of it,” Mabel said, her face reflecting the shock Erin felt. Mabel hung up the phone. “A streaker. We never even had one when they were fashionable.”
“Who’s the streaker?” Jessica asked as Mabel’s second line flashed again.
“Chris Farnsworth.” Mabel cast Elmer an uncomfortable look. “You’ better go down there, Elmer. Maybe you could help Pax subdue your grandson and talk him into putting his clothes back on.” She pressed line two with even more trepidation than before. “Sheriff’s office.”
Jessica leaned close to Mabel. “What’s happened now?”
“Yes, we know,” Mabel said into the phone. “It’s already been called in. A deputy will be there shortly.” She hung up the phone only to have the line light up again. “If that call is about the streaker, they can just hold their horses. Shesh.”
“I can’t imagine what would possess that boy to do such a foolish thing,” Elmer said, struggling to get his feet under him.
Jessica popped up out of her chair, flashing a mischievous grin. “I’ll walk you over to Main Street, Elmer.”
Erin assisted Elmer to the door where Jessica was already putting her coat on. She ignored Erin, looking through her to Elmer.
“I’ll have my cell phone ready this time, you know in case you need me,” she told Mabel with a wink, closing the door behind her and Elmer.
Erin rolled her shoulders, some of her tension leaving with Jessica.
Where was Graham?
She checked the time again. She was going to be later than she’d told her boss she’d be. Ramie had informed her on the phone the night before how disappointed he was in her that she hadn’t gotten the check from Greg. He didn’t hide his annoyance when she told him she was going be late to work the next morning so she could give her statement to the police. The last thing Ramie wanted was bad publicity for his company. He was very unhappy about her involvement in Greg and Deidre’s deaths. She’d be lucky if she still had a job at the end of the day.
“The sight of Chris Farnsworth buck naked, running down Main Street is not a sight I want to see,” Mabel said. “I changed that boy’s diapers. I’ve seen all of his privates I ever want to see.” She picked up a headset and put it on. “Pax. Come in.”
While Mabel gave Pax the particulars of Chris Farnsworth’s marathon down Main Street, Erin wondered what in the world was happening in San Rey. Three crimes in twenty-four hours. She couldn’t recall three crimes in a year, let alone a day. Combined with her highjacked ability and the issues her aunt and father were having, there was definitely something strange going on.
But what did it mean?
The door opened at the top of the stairs. Graham’s heavy tread announced him before Erin saw him. Man, the first hit of him was the most potent. A new flush crept up her cheeks, a combination of what had happened between them the night before and her vision of him in the shower.
“Hey,” he said without eye contact, making a beeline for the tray of coffees on Jessica’s desk.
“Hey,” Erin answered back in the same effortless tone.
Mabel pulled her headset back on and pressed the button for line two. “Sheriff’s office.”
“What’s going on?” Graham asked.
“It seems as though San Rey’s having a bit of a crime spree.” Erin motioned toward Mabel. “Mabel’s had four calls in the twenty minutes I’ve been here.”
“That phone doesn’t ring four times in a week.” Graham took his coffee to Mabel’s desk. He waited for her to finish the third streaker complaint, his expression growing more and more confused. “Did you just say streaker?” he asked Mabel.
“I’m afraid so. Chris Farnsworth decided to take a stroll down Main Street wearing the suit he was born in. Although I’m pretty sure that boy wasn’t born painted San Rey High’s colors. Seems he’s celebrating the football team’s win last night. In a really big, really illegal way. I sent Pax over to throw a blanket on him or something.”
Shaking his head, Graham chuckled. “Kids.”
“I wish that was all,” Mabel said. “Oh, shoot! Ned Jenkins is still on line one.” She punched the blinking line. “Sorry, Ned. We’re having a busy morning here. I’ll send the sheriff himself on over to take a report. Say howdy to Yvette for me. Okay, will do. Bye.”
“What’s Ned calling about?” Graham asked.
“A break-in,” Mabel said. “Somebody made off with his Cadillac and a bunch of other stuff. He’s really teed off.”
“A break-in? In San Rey? I don’t believe it. You’d better call Yvette and make sure he didn’t take a trip to the pawnshop he doesn’t want her to know about.”
“He insists he wasn’t drinking last night, Graham. And I believe him. He sounded Monday morning sober, not Friday night drunk. And I’d know the difference, having been married to him once upon a time.”
He considered her. “I guess you would. Why don’t you send Pax over there when he’s done? I have to take Erin’s statement.”
“Elmer went down with Jessica to see if he can’t help get Chris under control.”
Graham had started toward his office, then turned back at the mention of Jessica’s name. “That’s another thing. If that girl steps one foot on those stairs again, I’m firing her. I don’t care if she is your niece.”
“Technically she’s not my niece anymore since I divorced her no good, dirty, rotten uncle,” Mabel pointed out. “That was two husbands ago. No, three. I forgot about Stiffless Stan who is truly forgettable. Couldn’t even get it up half mast if you know—”
“Whatever,” Graham cut in, frustration edging the word. “Just keep Jessica out of my apartment.”
“I really need to get to work,” Erin said. “When can we reschedule?”
“We’re not rescheduling,” he told her, then addressed Mabel. “Call Jessica and tell her to get Elmer back down here. And tell her to get her butt in her chair where it belongs. The city’s not paying her to take pictures of naked men on Main Street so she can text them to her friends.”
Just then Mabel’s cell phone beeped. She looked at the screen and let out a squeak before pressing it face down on the top of her desk. “How’d you know she was going to do that?”
“I’m a goddamned rocket scientist,” Graham muttered as he headed toward his office. He paused in the doorway. “Come in, Erin. We can get a head start and get you to work that much sooner. Send Elmer in when he gets here,” he told Mabel.
“Sure thing, boss,” she responded, turning back to her phone and the two new incoming calls.
Erin followed Graham, nervous about being alone with him. After the way they’d left things last night, she wasn’t sure where things stood between them. Would they go back to being little more than acquaintances or would their changed relationship carry over into the new day?
Graham waited for her to enter his office, then closed the door behind her. “Goddamned small town,” he mumbled to himself, then to her. “Have a seat while I get set up. I’ll keep it brief so you can be on your way.”
His curt business tone threw her for a moment, but then what did she expect? She’d set the terms and boundaries of their relationship last night. He was only following them. This is what she wanted. She had no right to the disappointment that crept over her.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t respond as he gathered a digital recorder and small spiral bound notebook. He settled at his desk and flipped through the notebook, making notes on another sheet of paper. She focused on the room rather than on Graham where her gaze seemed to want to fix.
There was really nothing to it, she realized with some surprise. She hadn’t paid much attention the night before, but its utter starkness was depressing. There were no personal photos unless she counted the portraits of the five Sheriff Dorans that had come before, hanging on the wall behind him. No certificates, no doodads on the desktop, no funny coffee mug or breath mints… nothing to give away whom the office belonged to.
He could drop everything and leave at any moment and not have a thing to pack. Anyone could sit down behind the carved mahogany desk and pick up where he’d left off. Sadness for him edged out her earlier disappointment. He had one foot in, one foot out and wasn’t likely to keep either in San Rey.
“Knock it off.”
She started at his voice. “What?”
“I haven’t had enough coffee yet to deal with whatever you were just thinking about.”
“What does your tattoo mean?”
His surprise at her question quickly morphed into annoyance. “That’s it. I’m firing Jessica’s ass as soon as she gets it back here.”
“You could just lock your door.”
“If there was a lock on it.” He leaned back, the creak of his chair echoing off the nearly bare walls. He watched her with tired eyes that missed nothing. “It’s the Chinese word for protector. I celebrated my graduation from the police academy more than I should have and woke up with it the next morning.”
“You just have the one?”
His lazy, half smile lit small fires she struggled to bank. “Maybe someday you can answer that question for yourself.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Elmer’s entrance.
Mabel came in on his heels, bustling efficiency. “Everything’s all taken care of,” she said. “Chris Farnsworth is now fully clothed, Pax is on his way out to Ned’s, and Jessica is working on the filing. I had a chat with her. Not to worry, she’ll take the time off her lunch. Is there anything you need, Sheriff?”
“Locks,” Graham said under his breath, then spoke loud enough for Mabel to hear. “No interruptions until we’re done here.”
“You got it, Sheriff Doran.” Mabel closed the door after her.
“You’d better not have started without me,” Elmer said, dropping into the chair next to Erin with a grunt.
“Wouldn’t think of it.” Graham pressed a button on his recorder and stated the salient information for what he called the Lasiter case. “You don’t have any objections to this interview being recorded, do you?” Graham asked Erin.
She shook her head.
“I need your answer audible for the recording.”
“Oh. No. I don’t have any objections.”
~*~
Graham took her through the events of the day before, watching carefully for signs he was pushing her too hard. She held up. The pride he felt in that both pleased and annoyed him. He found himself focusing too often on her lips and the way they shaped words. He imagined too vividly that mouth whispering against his skin and crying out his name. Her lips pressed flat, smashing through his daydream. He realized she was waiting for him to speak.
He gulped cold coffee and cleared his throat. “Did you ever have any dealings with Deidre Lasiter?”
“Enough to say hi now and then when she lived in town. We weren’t friends or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Did you know any of her friends?”
“A few. We didn’t travel in the same circle.”
“Give me some names.”
“Janet Weidlin, Beatrice Farnsworth, and Susie Philpot. We have… had the same hair stylist down at the Clippity-Do-Da. Candy Dougherty.”
“I can arrange for you to talk to my granddaughter, Beatrice,” Elmer said. “In my presence, of course.”
Graham looked up from his notes. “Of course. Thanks, Elmer.” Great. He looked forward to interviewing the who’s who of his high school dating years— the girl he’d had a serious hard-on for, but never dated; the girl who’d had a crush on him; and the girl he’d ended up dating for nearly two years, in that order. He couldn’t decide which he dreaded most. “What about Greg?” he asked Erin. “Know anything about his friends? Were he and Deidre friends with any other couples?”
Her brow creased, in confusion or censure? If he’d stayed in San Rey he’d likely know the answer to his own question, would likely
be
one of the guys Greg hung out with. The regret of that realization made him feel guilty and sad for cutting off all ties to anything or anyone San Rey, other than his immediate family. He hadn’t expected to feel this way. During his time in L.A. there was no nostalgia, no looking back. There was nothing he missed or looked forward to whenever he came back for a visit. Did Erin see the total obliteration of his past as a criticism of him as a person?
“As far as I know,” Erin started, “Greg hung out with the same guys since high school. Susie or Beatrice would probably know more.”
“Okay. Thanks. That’s it.” Graham turned the recorder off. He had more to ask, but none of it was relevant to the case.
“I can leave?”
“I might have a couple of follow up questions, but for now, yeah, you can leave.”
Erin gathered up her coat and bag. She paused at the door. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Thanks for that. You’ll let me know about funeral arrangements?”
“I will.” He waited for her to leave, then settled back into his chair.
“She’s a looker like her Aunt Cerie was. Still is,” Elmer amended. “Do you suppose it’s true?”
“What?”
“Whatever gene it is that gives all them Decembers their woo-woo powers skipped her generation?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Graham hedged, annoyed. He’d heard this talk behind hands all his life. Hearing it now, about Erin, with everything she’d shared with him, pissed him off. She was right. He didn’t know the first thing about what her life had been like growing up here. The whispers and judgmental looks, being painted with the same brush no matter what you did or didn’t do. He didn’t know how she stood it, why she stayed and put up with it.