length mirror, and satisfied with the result, picked up her purse.
Her admission that she liked the desert came as a total surprise. She’d often told Carli, “If I want to live in a sandy location, I’ll take mine with an ocean view.” She’d rarely visited.
Dena grimaced. There’d been no spiritual revelation at the hotel site. And no clues. Had this whole trip been for nothing? She’d been convinced that something of Carli’s spirit would be at the site. Silly, she supposed. A twinge of sadness washed through her. There hadn’t been a tingle of anything.
She put her purse on the end of the bed, and remembering her thoughts on Zeke’s neighbor, pulled out the paper file from the laptop case. Cyril Johnston owned West Coast Citrus and was Zeke’s only competitor in the Coachella Valley. She scanned through her notes, tapped the papers against her chin. Had he caused the trouble at Three C’s? She put the file back in the case, walked to Zeke’s office, and hesitated in the doorway.
A young man stood beside the desk, and from the uniform and the leather tool belt, she guessed he was Bob the phone man. Rocky sat in the chair that faced the desk. Zeke spoke into the phone. “Yes. I do recall the name. My mother spoke of you.” He looked up, smiled and indicated she should come in and be seated.
Dena walked softly to the other chair and put her laptop case down beside it. “I’ve been going over the accounts and intended to contact you, Jim.” Zeke reached for a notepad. “See if you were ready to place an order.”
He wrote a couple more things on his notepad, checked his calendar and circled a date. “Perfect,” he said. “Yes, I’ll overnight at the Bonaventure. I’ll reconfirm with you or Hal.”
So, he’s going to L.A. Dena almost smiled. Maybe they could meet up?
From the upside down calendar on his desk, she saw he’d circled mid-month. Her heart almost skipped a beat. She reminded herself he would be there on business, not to see her. And the Bonaventure, they must be classy clients, or at least have big expense accounts.
“Sorry about that,” Zeke said to the man patiently waiting. He put the handset down in the cradle. “So we’re up and running, Bob?”
The man grinned and ran a hand through his long, shiny dark hair. “You’ll love the speed. Want to give it a test run?”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Zeke signed the service record. “Get a coffee or a soda if you like. Irma’s in the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I’ll see if Manny’s here.” Bob took the paperwork, left a receipt, and nodded to Dena on his way out.
Dena swallowed hard. He fit the profile of a love interest for Carli: young, maybe twenty-four, medium height, dark, muscular, deep-suntan, and an easy swagger. Except, she reminded herself, he didn’t go by Bobby, and he was married with a kid. Carli never got involved with married men. They’d always agreed on that.
“Interesting phone call,” Zeke said to Rocky. “It looks good for Three C’s. I think we’ve got Harmon and Bauer in the bag.”
Dena refocused. She noticed Rocky purse his lips, and while one hand balled into a fist, he flexed the fingers of the other hand. He didn’t look as happy as Zeke did about the phone call. Had they argued? Or could Rocky’s distaste and silence be directed at her?
“They’re buyers,” Zeke said, and smiled at her.
Dena only half-listened, her thoughts still on Rocky. A short siren burst, like one whoop, sounded close by and the tension in the room went up another notch.
Zeke stood and peered through the shutters on the office window. “Rocky, he’s back.” He swung around. Anger flashed across his face replaced quickly by concern. “I’m glad I called you in.”
Dena stiffened. Who is back? Stanton?
“This doesn’t look good,” Zeke said, and splayed one hand against the window frame.“He must have a warrant.”
Rocky hurried to the window, jostled Zeke out of the way. “He could be after Irma’s kid.” He turned and spoke to Dena for the first time this morning. “Manny is always in trouble.”
“This is bigger than some Latino kid running with a gang,” Zeke said quietly.
“I told you it wasn’t safe here,” Rocky said, glaring at Dena. “Good thing you’re leaving.”
Zeke’s skin paled, a whitish circle more prominent around his mouth, and a hard cold glint lit his eyes. His jaw clamped tight. He squared his shoulders and strode to the desk.