Hot Rocks by Randy Rawls Read Free Book Online

left and walked to the Chinese restaurant. She requested a booth in the back, and when she sat, insisted on the side facing the entry. Her order was a light meal. I only had tea. I asked why she was acting so spooked. She replied that she wanted it to be difficult for anyone to see her talking with me unless they entered the restaurant. And if they entered, she wanted to know.”
    “That didn’t give you cause for pause?” Sly said.
    I almost smiled at his use of his favorite phrase, wondering if he really knew it rhymed. If he did, he never let on. “Yes—and no. She had my curiosity cranked so tight I’d have probably followed her anywhere. I mean, this woman had a serious case of nerves. She was jumping around like—” I stopped, realizing I was about to repeat Sly’s cliché about cats and tin roofs. “Anyway, she was being super-cautious. I didn’t know if there was good reason for it or not.”
    When I paused to catch my breath, Sly said, “Did she finally get down to specifics?”
    I figured that was his way of telling me to get to the details so I did, telling him her story about her husband’s shenanigans and her desire to lose him in divorce court while keeping his money. Then, after a moment of mental outlining, I gave him the rest of the story.
    His lawyer-smile wavered a bit as he scratched his cheek. “And the police say the man who died was not her husband, not married?”
    Apparently, he’d understood some of what I’d stuttered at the beginning of the meeting. “Yes.”
    Sly looked at his notes, then doodled a couple of circles and triangles. I kept quiet, knowing it was one of his habits when weighing the points of an argument. A few cubes and cones joined the pictures. His last piece of art was a stick man. Then he steepled his fingers over his lips and looked down, a sure sign he was almost ready to speak.
    After another moment of silence, he said, “Beth, I’ve kicked around everything you said. I just can’t get worked up like you. To me, it’s obvious you followed the wrong man. Unfortunately, the one you picked up walked into something that got him killed. Your intrusion was untimely enough to earn you a crack on the noggin. Since you were the only person there when the cops arrived, they had questions for you—as I would expect.” He paused, locking his eyes on me. “So? What am I missing?”

nine
    “But … I …” I choked on my words, the truth of what Sly said slamming into me. I felt myself blush, as embarrassed as the first time I caught a boy staring at my budding chest. After a moment to reevaluate, I said, “You may be right. Maybe I am jumping at shadows. I only had a snapshot and the picture was none too clear. In it, he was dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt. The man I followed wore a suit. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I—”
    I almost choked on my words. Snapshot. Ms. Garcia had given me a picture of her husband. The inventory list from the hospital jumped into my mind. No picture listed. I tore my purse open and dumped its contents onto Sly’s conference table and pawed through the lipstick, nail polish, tissues, breath mints, and miscellaneous clutter. It wasn’t there. Nothing I needed was there.
    The look on my face must have been something to behold because Sly jumped to his feet and rushed to my side of the table. “Beth? Are you all right? What is it?”
    Anger flooded through me. Someone, some damned asshole, had gone too far. I pointed at my pile. “Someone took it, took everything. I have no proof left.” My voice was controlled, but I knew how cold it sounded. I battled the rage that threatened to overtake me.
    “Slow down. Let’s revisit the top. Tell me what has you so upset.”
    I stopped, took several deep breaths, then looked him in the eyes. “I was set up. That’s the only explanation.”
    He pulled out the chair beside me and dropped into it. “What’s missing, and why does it make you say that? Slow and easy, and don’t omit