Reilly 12 - Show No Fear (7 page)

W
HEN
N
INA ARRIVED AT THE OFFICE THE NEXT MORNING,
Astrid cornered her on the way in and asked her to verify a pile of petty-cash slips.

The usual motley crew of clients sat draped around the reception area, their faces expressing discomfort or desperation.

Down the hall Nina passed Jack’s office, then turned into her own tiny office, which seemed smaller than it was because of the bookshelves from floor to ceiling on three walls. Before she could pick up the phone, Jack walked in and plopped down in a chair. His hair nudged his collar. He needed a shave. Fidgeting, he said, “Hot in here. I’d suggest you open the window if you had one.”

“Good morning to you, too,” said Nina. “You sure have been dragging around here lately. You okay?”

“The usual. I’m too old for this shit.” Jack’s eyes drooped but on the whole he looked pleased with himself.

“Oh, yes, happy belated birthday. Just keep those gray hairs sprinkling around the temple. Makes you look very distingué.” She wondered if he had had a party.

“Such language,” Jack murmured. “How’re you doing?”

She thought about the appalling fear she had barely survived
on Sunday, thinking of Bob lost forever. Gone. But these were not thoughts to share with a handsome attorney who made her shiver sometimes, just walking past. “Well, Halloween is weeks away, and Bob keeps coming up with new concepts for his costume, and they keep getting more complicated. He’s so excited about going trick-or-treating for the first time.”

“I remember those days. Magic in the air.”

“Main reason never to grow up.”

“Then you’d miss out on the X-rated stuff.”

Nina smiled and indulged in a fantasy. She and Jack would go out to dinner, do some kissing after, maybe even go back to her place, where magic would indeed fill the air.

“You need some fun,” Jack said as if reading her mind.

Oh, we could sure have some fun, but you’re all tangled up with Remy, Nina thought. “You have something in mind?”

“I do. I want you to meet an old friend of mine. His name is Paul van Wagoner. He moved down here from San Francisco. I knew him in college and we were both in the Peace Corps together. Went to law school together for a while. He and Remy and I are having dinner tonight at Club XIX. Will you come?”

“Blind date. Uh-oh.” She lifted her hair off one shoulder of her sweater, leaving a damp mark behind.

Jack stood up and walked behind her, lifting a few strands of her hair. “Still wet from the shower. All that long hair’s impractical for someone who loves to surf and swim, isn’t it?”

“So tell me about this guy who needs a messy-haired blind date like me?” She moved away.

He leaned against a bookcase. “He’s a detective with Monterey County. A serious-crimes investigator. He’s working out of the Coastal Division of the sheriff’s office.”

“Hmm.”

“You don’t have to marry him. And the food at Club XIX is not frozen or from cans. And he’ll pay. He admits you’re taking a risk. He said to tell you he’s got a good Irish joke for you.”

She laughed. “Sold.”

“By the way, I ran into Richard Filsen. He continues to nurture
an unhealthy interest in you. He bent my ear wanting to know all about you.”

“What did he ask, Jack?”

“Everything. He hinted a lot, you know? Before I could shut him up.”

“Assume the DNA proves he’s my son’s father.”

“Okay.”

“When the results come, do they mean I will have to allow Richard rights like visitation? He hasn’t shown any interest in Bob until now. I’ve raised him entirely on my own.”

“The judge will consider that, yes.”

“And the judge will consider Richard’s paternity.”

“Yes.”

“I feel like I made a fatal life mistake. Isn’t that awful?”

“You have your son.”

“Thank you for the reminder. Yes, I have my sonny boy. What about a restraining order that would stop Richard from hanging around me or Bob?”

“Has he hurt you or threatened you or your son?”

“He’s too smart to do anything obvious. He followed me home once. He parks in front of the house sometimes and sits there, staring. He follows me in my car and shows up in places I go. I feel intimidated, although I’m not sure that’s what he intends. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“You could try for an order, although it doesn’t sound like a sure bet, and you might just antagonize him into hardening his resolve.”

Klaus passed by her door and looked in at them.

“Time for me to look busy,” Nina said.

“We’ll pick you up in P.G. around seven, okay?”

For the next hour, Nina talked on the phone, answering at least ten calls and initiating another dozen. She had Astrid’s temp trying to get the State Department of Corporations. She needed to reach a lawyer who had written a brief on another tax issue she was researching for Louis. She also lined up some witnesses for Jack’s prelim in a drug case set for tomorrow.

About eleven, the temp, a round-faced, young fellow named Griffin, came to Nina’s door to announce that Virginia Reilly had arrived. She met her mother in the reception area, noticing the carefully applied makeup and sprayed hair.

Nina gave her a hug. “You look nice today, Mom.”

“I swear the older you get, the more time you have to invest in your looks, and this while your looks along with your derriere are both in steady decline. It’s one of those futile acts, like pushing a boulder up a mountain only to have it roll down and knock you over.” Ginny studied her daughter, lifted a hand, and pushed Nina’s hair back from her forehead. “You should get that hair out of your eyes. Show off those fresh pink cheeks of yours.”

Nina laughed. “You’re right. I should put the whip to it. My hair, I mean.”

But nothing would happen that day. Astrid handed her mother some forms to fill out and told her she would have to come back the next day to go over details of the case with Remy, because Remy had an unexpected court appearance. Nina felt the familiar catching at the back of her throat, so she hurried her mother along, dropping her off at home.

Nina put in a heavy afternoon, then picked up Bob at the sitter’s and rushed home to fix him something to eat while he took in the evening cartoons. She called Bob’s regular sitter to remind her she needed her tonight.

“Shoot! I’m sorry, Nina. I forgot! I have a rehearsal. I’m playing Viola in the school play. I get to dress like a man. Isn’t that great?”

Nina took down numbers for two other friends, both of whom said roughly the same thing, although they were playing at something else, then sat staring at the phone for a minute before calling her next-door neighbor, Kanani Cherry, an empty nester from Oahu. Kanani had come to live in California because her sister had a hot job as a divorce lawyer in San Francisco and her kids had settled on the peninsula.

“Oh, goodie,” Kanani said. “I’ll make Bob
lilikoi
cake.”

Nina dashed around, putting on her only pair of real gold earrings, a low-cut black sweater and short skirt, fluffed her hair, and
dabbed jasmine oil all around because it smelled like what she imagined of the tropics. Kanani arrived, brushing off Nina’s apologies and abject thanks.

“Don’t answer the door to anyone, Kanani, okay?”

Oh, you paranoid mom, Kanani’s calm face said. “Go and have a good time,” she said kindly. “I promise to keep Bob safe, okay?”

“I mean it,” Nina felt compelled to add.

“I mean it, too.” Kanani pushed Nina out the door.

The first thing Nina did when she got into the backseat of Jack’s car was to take a long look at Paul van Wagoner. After taking a similarly long look at her legs as she entered the car, he smiled back at her in approval, and she noted hazel eyes in a strong, tan face, blond hair like Remy’s. “Those are some hot shoes.”

Everyone peeked at her heels, Jack and Remy leaning over their seats.

“Heels make useful weapons when the arguments aren’t going well.”

They all laughed. “Glad you could make it tonight. You have an adventurous spirit, I’m thinking,” Paul said with interest and warmth, and Nina felt herself heating up fast in response. She had made mistakes in the past, okay, but she sure missed male companionship, and Paul seemed eager to offer it. Within five minutes, he was pressing his leg against hers accidentally on purpose, squeezing her in the small space.

Jack and Remy must have picked up some of the mood in the backseat. Remy’s hand slid over and rested on Jack’s thigh. “Here we go,” she said. She wore a buttery leather jacket that smelled like the interior of a new car along with long, wide-ankled silk pants. She bent toward Jack and kissed his cheek. The back of his neck turned red.

Jack said, “I’ll cruise past Asilomar Beach on the way to Seventeen Mile Drive. Paul hasn’t been down here in a long time.”

The evening was unusually warm, an Indian-summer night, mellow and clear.

In spite of the fine evening and fine company, Nina couldn’t
help thinking about the letter she had received just a day before requiring a DNA test. Then she imagined Bob’s upcoming appointment. He hated being poked by needles. He might cry. She hated to see her little boy cry.

She could fight it, but Jack had assured her, on this point Richard would win. She should allow it, then duke it out with Richard. He had no rights when it came to Bob. None. The law should agree, or what good was it?

A sudden thought assailed her—Bob would want his father. He would miss him all his life.

She couldn’t fix that. She couldn’t fix everything.

She couldn’t help her mother, either.

But now was not the time to indulge in these daily worries. She needed to concentrate on what was happening right now.

A terrifyingly attractive man sat next to her, concentrating. On her.

N
INA LEANED BACK AGAINST THE SEAT, CLOSED HER EYES
for a moment, and took in the atmosphere. She had almost forgotten how female they could make her feel, these attractive fellows with their jokes, hairy bodies, and bigness.

She opened her eyes again, willing herself into the moment. Her skirt felt suddenly shorter. She pulled on it, trying to get comfortable. Paul was so close that when they turned to talk to each other, their noses almost touched. Jack played tour guide, but they were all too busy bathing themselves in the glow of sunset and each other to look at the scenery.

At the Pebble Beach golf course, a few late golfers were turning in their carts next to the restaurant. Inside, the dining room was full of people, mostly older men wearing blazers, the women in flowery dresses though summer was long gone. The four of them had a reservation, but the place was running late, so they retired to the bar. Remy took off her jacket to reveal a satin blouse cut close to her lean body. She looked tall and confident, leaning into Jack as she talked.

Perched on a bar stool beside Remy, listening to the low murmurs of the bar-and-restaurant crowd, Nina felt young and slap-dash. She couldn’t even reach the bar stool’s foothold. Did she
belong here, among all these confident, accomplished people? Why were they all so tall? She bet not a one of them was worrying too much about what junior would be wearing to his first real Halloween. Why, that woman’s blue-and-gold scarf would buy a whole haunted house.

Remy, Jack, and Paul caught up on each other while Nina studied the room, wondering what it was about this world that had attracted her. In fact, she had never much considered that much of an attorney’s job involved networking, listening to gossip, and hanging out with other attorneys wearing suits. She and Remy had worked together for two years, but this was the first time they had done something together socially. She had no idea what Remy thought of her.

This sudden feeling of not fitting in made her shy. Nina’s first rush of enthusiasm tempered as she realized that Paul was interested in her but not thunderstruck. Still, as the four chatted and the cocktails took effect, she realized she was feeling good, pleased to meet a man who seemed intelligent, and amazed at herself for liking him so swiftly; also wary, since that had gotten her in trouble before. She also loved watching Jack. He could be so cute, telling jokes and then laughing like a barking seal at himself, louder than anyone else.

Remy was in her element. More expansive than Nina had ever seen her, she ordered a second round of drinks, was sarcastic and funny about the canned music, and laughed at Paul’s lawyer jokes, all the time looking like someone famous. “You and Jack knew each other at Harvard?” she asked Paul, teasing Jack with her stockinged foot.

“For undergrad and a few months of law school,” Paul responded, smiling. “I decided for a guy like me the streets would be better than the courtroom. I switched to grad school at Northeastern, but we saw each other almost every weekend. We went rock climbing in New Hampshire.”

“There aren’t any really big mountains there. The White Mountains aren’t high,” added Jack. “But the weather can change in a second. Mount Washington has the highest wind speed ever recorded in the Western Hemisphere.”

“What about that one rock face near North Conway?” Paul reminded him.

“Oh, yeah. We climbed that one dreaming of the Himalaya.”

Paul took a sip of his drink. “Jack’s a competitive sucker when it involves something he really cares about. And very sleazy. If he decides to be first up the mountain, let him. Hold on to your dignity if you can.”

“That’s dubious, van Wagoner. When was the last time I got up there first? Huh? You’re a goddamned inspiration to me!” Jack punched Paul’s arm. “Then we joined the Peace Corps. We both got posted to Nepal, and there we were as the plane descended into the Kathmandu valley, this long line of snowy peaks farther up in the sky than any mountains have a right to be. We wanted to summit a big mountain together. Machupuchare or Thamserku—”

“Why?” Nina asked.

Paul answered, “To impress the ladies with stories of courage and manliness, of course.”

“Would that impress you, Nina?” asked Remy.

“If they came back alive.”

Jack continued, “We were assigned to teaching English in schools on opposite sides of the country. We figured—Nepal, it’s just a dot on the map. We’d get together and climb on weekends. But the whole country turned out to be cut by transverse mountain gorges with furious rivers running down the middle. And the main way of getting around was walking.

“We weren’t on opposite sides exactly, but I was in the eastern Terai, at sea level down toward India. Paul was a couple of hundred miles away and twelve thousand feet higher at Namche Bazar. There was a small plane that flew into Lukla, a couple days’ trek from Namche, but who had money in those days?”

“The result being that I did almost all the climbing while Jack consoled himself with ganja,” Paul said.

“And working hard to make a better life for the locals,” Nina said lightly.

“We worked our fool heads off,” Paul said, “definitely.”

“In totally different ways,” Jack added.

“Did you pick investigation of serious crimes as your career? Or did it pick you?” Nina asked Paul.

“It picked me.”

“Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“I’ll pass on that. That reminds me of this Irishman who was on a quiz show not too long ago. Something you might relate to, Nina.”

“Oh?” Nina said. Jack and Remy leaned forward.

“Yes, he was a dyed-in-the-wool county Galway sort of guy. Smart guy on an English TV show. He picked as his area of expertise modern Irish history. So the MC asks his first question: ‘Who was the first president of Ireland?’”

“‘Pass,’ says the Irish guy. The audience is appalled. Not know Eamon de Valera? How stupid is this guy?”

Paul took a long drink of water. “So the MC says, ‘Here’s your second question. What’s the year Eire became an independent country?’

“‘Pass,’ says the Irishman.

“Now the audience is staggered. What an idiot! These aren’t exactly hard questions. So the MC says, ‘Here’s your last question, then. What was the crop whose failure led to the great Irish famine of the nineteenth century?’ What do you think the Irishman says, Nina?”

“What?”

“‘Pass.’ The audience starts to boo, but then, from way back in the audience, a loud Irish voice calls, ‘That’s right, me boy, don’t tell those bastard English a thing!’”

Nina laughed with the others and thought, true enough. You don’t volunteer information to the enemy. Her dad had taught her that rule long ago.

The waiter arrived to tell them their table was ready. As they followed his white jacket toward the dining room, Paul held Nina back for a moment, whispering, “Any chance I can see you again?”

“Well, sure.”

“Great. In addition to your obvious charms, Jack says you have a cottage behind your house for rent. And that you’d make an excel
lent landlord. Now that I’ve met you, I think he made a mistake.” Paul laughed at the look on her face. “You’d make a spectacular landlady.”

She didn’t approve of this turn of events, but would never admit it. “Jack never mentioned you needed a place.”

“I thought we should meet first.”

“To see if we hit it off?” Nina leaned against the brick wall just outside the dining room. Paul had a good eight inches on her in spite of her heels.

“Well, didn’t we?” He put his head close to hers and instead of kissing her, which she expected, rubbed his cheek against her cheek. Neither of them seemed to breathe. Then they both laughed and he took her hand.

At dinner, Nina and Remy were called upon to provide brief sketches of their histories. Jack drank too much and Remy made an appointment with Paul to talk about a wrongful-death case she had. After starting with a bite-sized basil soup, and duck foie-gras ravioli, Nina ate a sublime rock lobster paired with a Sancerre. When the beef dish arrived, she made a valiant try, and she sampled the potato puree with a lobster béarnaise. “I’m hereby spoiled for real life,” she finally admitted, putting down her fork and allowing the waiter to clear her mostly uneaten plate.

Jack touched her on the inside of her elbow. “Soft,” he said, “on the outside, but hard when you need to be.”

Remy ignored the interaction, but Nina understood she had heard. Paul said, “Nina plays a good game but she does not play hardball.”

Elected most sober, Paul drove them back. They dropped Nina just after midnight. Paul walked her to the door. He rubbed his cheek against hers again, then turned to face her, bent down, and gave her a tender kiss. “I love the curves of your body, your hips,” he said.

“Uh,” she said, listening for the distant waves, right there on her own porch, enjoying his touch.

“You’re so fine.” He squeezed her hips.

“Stop that.” Nina pulled away from him, feeling his fingers continuing to explore.

His other hand joined in the fun. “So nice.”

Nina stepped away. “Stop again.”

He looked at her calmly, only the hint of an eyebrow raised. “Don’t blame me for hoping. You’re a catch.”

Nina waited with the door ajar while they drove away, then stood on the porch to wait for the tingle to wear off for a few moments before going into the house.

“How was it?” Kanani looked up from her book.

“Very nice,” Nina said, thinking, outstanding. “Did anyone come here while I was out?”

“Nobody.”

“Any calls?”

“Not a one.”

Bob had fallen asleep sideways in his bed. After profuse thanks to Kanani and good-byes, Nina woke him up a little, straightening him out. He smelled so good, like toast and butter. She had to smooth his hair a few times and kiss his plump cheek before she pulled his covers back over him.

“Zorro, Mommy,” he said drowsily. “In a big, black cape.”

“We’ll talk costumes tomorrow. Back to sleep.”

She caught herself thinking happily, Bob doesn’t remind me of Richard, not in any way, but by the time she had her clothes off and was sliding into bed, her thoughts had switched to a review of the evening. Yes, she could fit into that world of Club XIX, the drinkers, hopers, losers, aspirers. She would think of them all naked whenever she felt daunted. Remy had been so friendly tonight, closer than her usual cool distance, and especially nice to Jack, who wore a smug look by evening’s end.

Nina really liked Jack but recognized that Jack really liked Remy.

And Paul, well, she suspected she understood him. He was a man on the make, not serious, reeling from some emotional kick, but handsome, single, and maybe even interested, she thought groggily. She pulled the covers tightly around her, curling into a dream where he kissed her, and she loved it, and Richard watched them kissing through a window, menacing, dangerous.