I remembered one of the tenants mentioning she saw Carl walking into the apartment building with a BevMo bag. No doubt with the tequila that he had in him when he died.
I stayed out there another hour and a half without anybody coming home. I gave up and went back to St. Monica’s.
That night I dreamed I was in Dodger Stadium, alone, at night. The lights were out and I was wandering the seats, looking for someone to shine a light and get me to the exit. Nobody came.
166
THE NEXT MORNING, early, I called Zebker from my trailer.
“You want me to congratulate you or something?” he said.
“I don’t want you to start the day on a sour note,” I said. “So skip it. But you do have a killer to catch.”
“We had the killer.”
“I have a credit card bill here that says Carl bought something at BevMo a few hours before he died. Somebody saw Carl going into his building with a BevMo bag. I didn’t see that listed on your inventory. What happened to the bag?”
Pause. “Maybe he dumped it before he went into his apartment.”
“How likely is that? You bring your shopping bags in, you unpack, you toss the bag in the trash. And what else was in that bag?”
“What does it matter?”
“I thought you’d be curious, that’s all. You know me. Willing to help, right? I’m not ready to pack this case in.”
“Good luck,” he said.
“If you find something out, I’d appreciate a call.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
“Detective, I know all about your culture of silence, not sharing case information with the common shlub. But I am not a common shlub. I am, in fact, a remarkable shlub. I sacrificed my left butt cheek to catch a potential killer. And I’ve been very open with you. Now you can, in your discretion, give me any information you choose to. I’m asking you to so choose.”
“What does the judge say? I’ll take it under advisement.” Then he disconnected.
I looked out at the empty basketball court for a while, then got ready for the day. I had someone to see.
167
BOTH ERIC AND Fayette looked hungover. They were in bathrobes, but Eric let me in and offered me coffee.
“Sorry about last night,” Eric said. “I needed to spend some time with my wife, you understand.”
I tried to. I sat with them around a kitchen table. Fayette looked like she didn’t want me anywhere near the place.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Eric said. “What you did in there was amazing.”
“We caught a break,” I said.
“Some break,” Fayette said.
Eric looked at her, then back at me. “It all worked out for the best.”
I took a sip of coffee, trying to figure out how I felt about Eric Richess. Finally, I said, “I’m very fond of your mother, and I don’t want to see her hurt. I think she needed you last night more than you two needed each other.”
“That’s really none of your business,” Fayette said.
Eric patted her arm, to mollify her. She jerked away. Now I felt totally out of place.
Eric said, “I hear you, Ty. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I am worried about it, Eric. I’m worried about it a lot. And I tend to get very cranky when I get worried.”
“That sounds like some sort of threat,” Fayette said.
Lady, you haven’t heard me come within twenty yards of a threat, but just tempt me. Go ahead.
Eric said, “Ty, you are above and beyond. I’ll do the right thing by my mom.”
Which reminded me, I had a right thing to do, too.
I got out of the Richess love nest and drove down to the Motel 6 and gathered up Daryl. He wanted to stay and watch more TV, but I told him he was ready to re-enter society as a productive citizen.
He didn’t know if he wanted to.
I did not give him a choice, even though he still had some facial healing to do. “But you don’t scrub pots with your face,” I told him.
“Say what?”
“Say, get in the car.”
I drove him to St. Monica’s homeless shelter and went to the front desk, where Sister Barbara ran things. They had one room available. I said Daryl would do especially well in the kitchen, starting with the pots and pans.
“Oh, man!” Daryl said.
“And you are grateful to the Sisters, aren’t you, Daryl?”
He opened his mouth but I glared it shut for him. “Yeah,” he said. “Sure. Happy to do it.”
I nodded my approval.
Outside, my old pal Only, the medical marijuana maven,