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Hanging like trophies on the pegboard next to the rolls of tape are her bike helmet and backpack.
July 27, 2021
1
Holly drives down Ridge Road to a two-hour parking zone, opens her window, and lights a cigarette. Then she calls the Harris residence. A man answers. Holly gives her name and occupation and asks if she could drop by and ask a few questions.
“What’s this onguarding?”
“Pardon me?”
“I said what’s this regarding, Miss—?”
Holly repeats her name and says she’s interested in Cary Dressler. “I’ve been working on a case where Mr. Dressler’s name came up. I went by the bowling alley where he worked—”
“Strike Em Out Lanes,” he says, sounding impatient.
“That’s right. I’m trying to track him down. It has to do with a series of auto thefts. I can’t go into the details, you understand, but I’d like to talk to him. I saw the picture of your bowling team with Mr. Dressler in it, and I just thought you might have some idea where he got off to. I’ve already talked to Mr. Clippard and Mr. Welch, so since I’m nearby, I—”
“Dressler has been stealing cars?”
“I really can’t go into that, Mr. Harris. You are Mr. Harris, aren’t you?”
“Professor Harris. I suppose you can come by, but don’t plan on staying long. I haven’t seen young Mr. Dressler in years and I’m quite busy.”
“Thank y—”
But Harris is gone.
2
Roddy puts his phone down and turns to Emily. Her sciatica has relented a bit and she no longer needs the wheelchair, but she’s using her cane, her hair needs combing, and Roddy has an unkind thought: She looks like the old witch in a fairy tale.
“She’s coming,” he says, “but not about the Dahl girl. It’s Dressler she’s interested in. She says.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Not necessarily, but it makes a degree of sense. She claims to be investigating a series of car things.” He pauses. “Thefts, car thefts. It could be. I doubt very much if private detectives work just one case at a time. It wouldn’t be payable.” Is that the right word? Roddy decides it is.
“She’s got separate cases involving two of the people we’ve taken? That would be a very large coincidence, wouldn’t it?”
“They happen. And why would investigating Bonnie Dahl lead Gibson to the bowling alley? That elf-girl was no bowler.”
“Her name is Gibney. Holly Gibney. Perhaps I should talk to her when she comes.”
Roddy shakes his head. “You didn’t know Dressler. I did. It’s me she wants to talk to, and I’ll handle it.”
“Will you?” She gives him a searching look. “You said onguarding instead of regarding. You… I don’t exactly know how to say this, my love, but…”
“I’ve slipped a cog. There. I’ve said it for you. Did you think I wasn’t aware? I am, and I’ll make allowances.” He touches her cheek.
She presses her hand over his and smiles. “I’ll be watching from upstairs.”
“I know you will. I love you, muffin.”
“I love you, too,” she says, and makes her slow way to the stairs. Her ascent will be even slower, and painful, but she has no intention of having a chairlift installed, like the one in the house of the old bitch down the street. Em can hardly believe Olivia is still alive. And she stole that girl, who appeared to have some talent.
Especially for a black person. For a negress.
