pretty sketchy information.
She told him about our conversation with Faye Ingram, about the man from the past, Ewin Lowry, who had once threatened Clara. Maia mentioned that someone, possibly Pena himself, had dug into Jimmy's past, unsettled him by suggesting he had a missing sibling. She told him about the catfish on my doorstep.
"Mind games," she said. "But if nothing else, Lopez will be obliged to investigate - spend his time focusing on alternatives other than you."
Garrett didn't look reassured.
Across the room, more soft laughter from the artichoke heads. They were making comments about the Techsan program - wondering what moron had designed it.
I didn't want to, but I filled in the rest of the story for Garrett. I brought him up to speed on what Dwight had told Maia - how the software problems would be fixed quickly, how the late great Techsan might turn overnight into a billiondollar proposition.
Garrett picked one of his Chinese warriors, tossed it to me. "I told you it was a good program. You got what you wanted, little bro. Don't be so down."
His listlessness scared me more than any amount of anger. I almost wanted to hand him a Lorcin, tell him to start shooting. Almost.
"Ruby McBride," I said. "You've known her a lot longer than you let on. You two used to
. . . date?"
"Ancient history," Garrett told me. "I never would've agreed to work with her otherwise."
"That serious, huh?"
A young woman in sweats came toward us, a box of plants and keyboards in her arms.
One of the temps, probably, hoping to say goodbye. When she saw Garrett's expression, she hesitated, then did a quick retreat. Maybe she decided a final farewell wasn't so important after all.
"Lopez will use Ruby," Maia told Garrett. "If he can establish a motive for you killing Jimmy - jealousy, resentment, a jilted lover's revenge - he'll make the DA's day."
I'd had trouble looking at Garrett the last few days, with the weight he'd lost, the unhealthy colour of his skin, the distant possibility that he recently killed someone . . .
Now he seemed even less like himself. With his black shirt, his beard trimmed, his dour expression, he reminded me of a renegade Greek Orthodox priest.
"When I was in physical therapy the first time," he said, "I had a nurse named Scholler.
Hardass German woman. Used to scream at me."
Garrett didn't often talk about his accident, or the days immediately following. Now he spoke like he was building a bridge of ice, freezing section by section, seeing if it would hold his weight.
"Scholler made me do situps," he said, "which was really hard for me. I mean it's still hard, because I've got no leverage. She would hold my hips and holler at me to work.
I hated her. I could barely get out of bed. Once I was on the floor - anything would stop me. An electrical cord lying across the carpet was like the fucking Great Wall of China.
And here was this German bitch, making me get over it, prodding me to get to the mat so she could force me to do my fifty situps."
"But looking back," Maia guessed, "you appreciate her."
"Hell no. I still hate her guts. The thing is - the struggle never changed from that first couple of weeks in PT. Getting out of bed never got any easier. There are days when that electrical cord seems like the biggest damn thing in the world, and the only thing keeping me going is that voice screaming in the back of my head."
He stared at the Chinese warrior in my hands, grabbed it back.
"You want to know how serious Ruby and I were? What you live for after PT - you try to find reasons to get up in the morning that are better than Nurse Scholler. There was a time - early on - when I thought Ruby would be my reason. I found pretty quick it wasn't going to be that way. Ruby couldn't even look at me after I lost my legs."
"And you blamed Jimmy."
Garrett didn't answer. He turned the bronze warrior around, examining its tarnished spots. "The last few years, little bro, my reason for getting up has been this place.
Ruby and Jimmy - they ruined that for me, too. Lopez wants to use that as a reason why I'd be resentful, there's nothing I can do about it. He's right."
I looked at the wooded hills outside, the expensive viewfor lease, feeling Garrett's sense of defeat fully