This was quite bothersome, really, as there was a bit of reality gnawing a hole through him, and as of late, it felt as if that hole was becoming unmanageably large.
FLYNN and Joe caught up with Mr. Castaneda, the Wassermans yardman, on Tuesday, who assured them he had not seen anyone come or go from the Wasserman house the day Mrs. Wasserman was murdered.
I left around two, he told them at the burger joint where they had convinced him to meet. Didnt see no one.
Did you have anyone helping you that day, Mr. Castaneda?
No, no one. Its too cold for anything to grow, so I just go by and rake leaves.
You gonna eat those fries? Joe asked Flynn.
Flynn turned his head and gave Joe a look. Please. Help yourself.
Thanks, he said, and picked up a handful.
Flynn turned his attention back to Mr. Castaneda. Did you happen to note if Mr. and Mrs. Wasserman were home that afternoon?
I know she was. I saw her walking her dog, he said.
And did you happen to see Mr. Wasserman that morning?
No. I think he was already gone when I got there, Mr. Castaneda said as he watched Joe take another handful of Flynns fries. Joe noticed him looking at him and offered him one. Mr. Castaneda shook his head.
And you saw no one else come or go from the house but Mrs. Wasserman. Is that likewise correct?
Yeah, he said, nodding.
What about that pickle? You gonna eat that pickle? Joe asked Flynn.
Flynn abruptly pushed his plate in front of Joe, who smiled and picked up the pickle.
And again, how long would you say you were there, sir? Flynn asked.
Got there around eleven and left at two.
Smashing, thanks. Just one more thing, if youll indulge mehas anyone lent you a hand at the Wassermans house prior to that morning?
Sure! Mr. Castaneda said. In the summer, theres too much work to be done. I use my nephew.
His name?
Joaquin Castaneda, he said readily. But he didnt do it, Mr. Oliver. Hes in the army now.
Anyone in addition to Joaquin? he asked as Joe polished off the pickles and the last of the fries.
Mr. Castaneda squinted his eyes as he thought about that. Maybe once or twice.
This summer? Flynn pressed.
Mr. Castaneda shrugged. Maybe. I dont remember. If I did, it was in the spring, I think. One of Joaquins friends. He glanced at his watch. Are we about done here? I have to get back to work. I got two yards this afternoon.
All done, Flynn said, withdrawing his wallet and tossing a few bills on the table. We appreciate your help, sir, he said, coming to his feet. Joe did, too, but not before reaching for a toothpick. Thank you kindly for your time.
Mr. Castaneda nodded and got up to go. But before he got too far, Flynn said, I do beg your pardon, Mr.
Castaneda, but there is one more little thing. He casually put his wallet in his trousers. Did you like the Wassermans dogs?
Their dogs ? he asked, confused. Im not really a dog manmy wifes got cats, and you know
Did they bark?
He thought about that for a moment and shook his head. Not at me. I dont know, I didnt see them too much. They were always inside.
Flynn smiled, extended his hand to the yard man. Thank you again, he said, shaking the old mans hand.
Mr. Castaneda beat a hasty exit out the door. Joe chuckled as the door closed behind him and clapped Flynn on the back. Hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. It was Wasserman.
And exactly how do you come round to that stunning conclusion? Flynn asked as he picked up the check and started for the counter.
Easy. Listen to a pro, pal. The yard man doesnt see anyone coming or going all day. The lady is dead since late morning
Or early afternoon, after Mr. Castanedas departure. The coroner did give quite a long range to time of death. You might recall reading that fact in the coroners report, he said as he handed the pretty girl behind the register a twenty-dollar bill.
Just like you to read all the crap. Me? I just called up the doc and asked him straight up to save myself some time. So anyway, Mom and Moms dog are already dead when Castaneda arrives. Pop has already left for work. No one hears or sees a thing that morning. Its pretty clear cut, Id say. Pop killed Mom and Moms dog, made it look like some sort of break-in, and skipped off to work. Just need to wrap up a motive and there you have it.
The girl gave Flynn change, let her middle finger slide suggestively across his palm. He gave her a slight wink and pocketed the change. Ah, but therein lies the rub, eh? he remarked as he turned and motioned for Joe to pro-ceed him. You havent got the slightest bit of a motive, have you?
Like I said, Joe announced as they walked into the bright sunshine of a brilliant fall day. Watch a pro at work. Bet Ive got a motive before Thanksgiving.
Ill bet Ive got the killer before then, Flynn said, and grinned. One hundred of your American dollars says I do.
Youre on, pal, Joe said with a snort, and punched the automatic lock on his key chain. So what have you got going on the other deal? he asked as he opened the drivers door.
Ive a weaving class this evening, Flynn said as they got into the car.
Joe laughed. Dude, you have got to be the first guy in the history of the world to take a fucking weaving class just to get inside some chicks pants!
Rather effective, wouldnt you say? Flynn asked with a grin. At least more so than rubbing against her to show her what Im working with , he said, mimicking Joes earlier advice in an American accent.
Hey, whatever floats your boat. I happen to like the direct approach. Sounds like you prefer the what do you call it? The nancy-boy approach.
He started the car over Flynns objections to the use of the term nancy-boy , and he was hardly done with it. At the precinct, he told the chaps he worked with that Flynn was off to a weaving class, and before Flynn could escape, they were asking after personalized pot holders. Not to be outdone, and to their considerable and collective amusement, hed called them a fat lot of uncultured plebeians as he had taken his leave.
FLYNN arrived late to class, and quite on purpose, hoping that hed be dismissed from it altogether for his tardiness. But as luck would have it, no one seemed to notice his tardiness.
So much for being expelled.
The other students were already paired off at one of four looms; Chantal and Tiffinnae, obviously, David and Lucy (David insisting that Lucy stay on his right so that he could get a proper feel for the loom, the nesh wimp), and Jason and Rachel were working together. Rather, Rachel was stringing the loom while Jason was watching her with the expression of a young man desperately in love.
That left Flynn to share a loom with Sandy, who, he couldnt help noticing, was on crutches this week.
Twisted my ankle, she said cheerfully as Flynn pulled up a chair.
Put a bit of ice on it? he asked absently as Rachel turned and smiled at him, her eyes lighting up.
Oh, I did everything, trust me, Sandy quickly assured him. I probably should have stayed off of it, cause Im pretty sure I tore some ligaments, and if thats the case, then I might as well get used to getting around on these things! she said brightly, and pulled a giant plastic bottle of Gatorade from her bag. You ever jack up your ankle, Finn? she asked as she began to stack a variety of pharmaceutical bottles on the small table next to her.
I broke my leg playing football, he said.
Whew! Sandy laughed, waving her hand at him. Dont even get me started on broken limbs!
Flynn rather thought hed take her advice on that score. So what have we here? he asked, looking at the giant loom. As Sandy began to explain, he felt Rachel come up behind him. He knew, because he caught the faint scent of vanilla, and because he felt her energy. That rattled him a bitFlynn was not the sort of man to feel energybut when he turned around, Rachel was smiling down at him, and the radiance of that smile filled the room.
It was little wonder Jason was such a besotted bloke, he thought absently as he returned her brilliant smile. She wore a white turtleneck sweater and a long gray knit skirt that hugged her curvaceous frame. She wore her dark curly hair in a rather remarkable and complex knot at her nape, and a pair of dangling crystal earrings.
Hello, she said, smiling softly.
Hello, he said, returning the smile.
Miss Lear! Chantal suddenly shouted across the room. Tiffinnae done jammed this thing!
Uh-uh, she jammed it, Miss Lear! Tiffinnae quickly shot back.
Rachels smile did not hide the glimmer of exasperation in her eyes, and with a sigh, she said, Ill check back with you guys later. With a subtle wink, she went off to see what could be done for the loom.
Flynn looked at Sandy. Mr. Gregorys wife died, she announced.
Oh dear.
I know what youre thinking, she said. I sure didnt think he was straight. And married ? Uh-uh, I would never have guessed that. Well anyway, the funeral is tomorrow, and were all going.
Are you? he asked as he reached to touch some of the yarn already strung through the loom.
Dont touch that! Sandy said sharply, then quickly smiled. Ill show you how to do it, she said, and resumed her explanation of how the loom worked.
And just as Flynn was about to doze off, Rachel reappeared at his side and hed never been quite so happy to see her. Everything all right?
Yes, of course, he said. Sandy was telling me all about the loom.
Rachels sympathetic smile indicated she knew his agony.
I told him about the funeral tomorrow, and how were all going, Sandy added.
Oh. Well. Rachel glanced uneasily at Flynn. We just thought not that you should think this, but its just that poor Mr. Gregory has no family or friends. And we thought, how horrible to lose someone as precious as your spouse, then face that final good-bye alone, she said, and for a moment, she lowered her head, touched a hand to her eyes.
That puzzled Flynn greatlyyes, of course it was sad and all that, but to be so distraught for a man she couldnt possibly know? He felt a little embarrassed and pushed a hand through his hair. I, ah I really am very sorry.
Uh Rachel? Jason had turned around, was eyeing Flynn suspiciously. I did what you said.
Yes, right. Okay, she said, and walked away to help Jason. Flynn watched her intently, fascinated by her sorrow.
Hello? Were doing a project here, remember? Sandy testily reminded Flynn.
Righto, that we are.
Sorry if I seem a little mean, but I think Im getting a migraine, Sandy informed him, and picked up a pharmaceutical bottle. I hope I brought the right medicine.
God in heaven, so did Flynn.
FLYNN managed to endure the entire class without actually being allowed to touch anything, but was uncommonly bored for the two-hour duration. As Sandy worked and talked, he found himself watching Rachel move from loom to loom. She had a way about her that put everyone at ease, an ability to relate to people from all walks, the sort of person that most people were instantly drawn to.
Certainly he was.
But when the class thankfully came to an end, the others packed up their things and leftChantal and Tiffinnae helping Sandy, who could not possibly negotiate her very large bag and her crutcheswhich left Flynn and, predictably, Jason, who seemed determined to wait Flynn out.
Flynn obliged him. He got up, walked to the door, and looked back at Rachel. Ah, Rachel, there was something I meant to inquire.
Sure, she said, and walked to where he stood.
Flynn smiled, glanced over her head at Jason, who was pretending to examine the loom. Id rather hoped to have a chance to chat, but I think Jason wont allow it, he whispered.
She smiled sadly as she glanced over her shoulder. Hes a very lonely kid. I think he sees me as some sort of big sister, she whispered back.
Actually, I think its possible he sees you as the love of his life. He smiled. But Im the lucky chap who has the date.
You do! And Im really looking forward to it.
So am I. He glanced over her shoulder, to where Jason was still hunched down over the loom, waiting for him to leave. Flynn took a step closer to Rachel and leaned over, whispered in her ear, Frankly, since you left that rather provocative message on my telephone, Ive been imagining what it is, exactly, you do with your loom, he said, and laughed low at her blush. Shall I come round at eight?
That would be great.
He gave her a subtle wink, opened the door, and walked out.
Ah, Flynn? she asked, poking her head out the door as he began to walk down the corridor.
Yes? he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Umm dont you want to know where I live? she asked, her expression curious.
Bloody hellher blue eyes had knocked him off balance again, but he quickly recovered with a laugh. That would indeed be helpful. And he withdrew a small notebook from his coat pocket to take note of the direction he already knew quite well.
THE next morning, Rachel began her fish-packing stint and decided she had finally reached rock bottom. The fish were disgusting and the stench was enough to turn the most iron-clad of stomachs.
That afternoon, after a long hot bath that still hadnt quite removed the stench from her nostrils, Rachel attended Mrs. Gregorys funeral and, thanks to Chantal and Tiffinnae, the impromptu reception of sorts that occurred thereafter.
It was at the reception that one of them came up with the bright idea to have Thanksgiving together, and before Rachel could stop it, they had agreed to have it at her house.
When she arrived home, with hardly enough time to prepare for her date, her answering machine was blinking with five messages.
The first one was from Dad. Rachel, call me when you get in, please, he said in a voice that sounded more impatient than anything else. So she made a mental note to call him someday and went on to the next four.
They were all from Dagne. Her first message was to re-port on her date with Glenn, which, she said, had been surprisingly hot . And then she had called wanting her spell book for another date with Glenn. Her third message was to inform Rachel she had come by and picked up the spell book, and her fourth message was her explanation that she had returned the spell book, along with a cream Rachel was to use in conjunction with spell number forty-two before her date tonight, because that combination had apparently worked wonders for Dagne. She ended the call with a plea to call her first thing in the morning, and oh yes, shed left a little gift for her on the dining room table.