Connelly, Michael - Mickey Haller 05 - The Gods of Guilt by Connelly Michael

Author:Connelly, Michael [Connelly, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409134367
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2013-11-20T18:30:00+00:00

24

At seven p.m. that night I walked down the hill and over to the little market at the base of Laurel Canyon. I called for a cab and waited fifteen minutes, reading the community notices on the corkboard out front. The cab took me over the hill and down into the Valley. I had the driver drop me on Ventura Boulevard by Coldwater Canyon. From there I walked the last five blocks to Flex, arriving at the yoga studio shortly before eight.

Kendall Roberts was busy with closing duties at the front counter. Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head and there was a pencil stuck through it. The students from the last class were filing out, rolled rubber mats under their arms. I stepped in, got her attention, and asked if I could speak with her after she locked up. She hesitated. I had not told her I was coming by.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“I taught four classes back-to-back. I’m starved.”

“Have you ever been to Katsuya down the street here? It’s pretty good. It’s sushi, if you like that.”

“I love sushi, but I haven’t been there.”

“Why don’t I go down, get a table, and you come when you’re finished here?”

She hesitated again, as though she was still trying to figure out my motives.

“It won’t be a late night,” I promised.

She finally nodded.

“Okay, I’ll see you there. It might be fifteen minutes. I need to freshen up.”

“Take your time. You like sake?”

“Love it.”

“Hot or cold?”

“Uh, cold.”

“See you there.”

I walked down Ventura and stepped into Katsuya, only to find the place crowded with sushi enthusiasts. There were no tables available, but I secured two stools at the sushi bar. I ordered the sake and some cucumber salad and pulled out my phone as I began the wait for Kendall.

My ex-wife had come through with an e-mailed photo of my daughter and her horse. The shot showed Hayley with the horse’s face leaning over her shoulder from behind. The animal was black with a white lightning-bolt stripe running down its long nose. Both girl and horse were gorgeous. I was proud, but seeing the photo only added to my hurt at the news about the impending move to Ventura County.

I switched over to the message app and composed a text to my daughter. She read her e-mails only once or twice a week and I knew that if I wanted to get a message through without delay I needed to text.

I told her that her mother had sent me the photo of her and her horse and that I was proud of her for pursuing riding the way she was. I also said I had heard about the impending move and that I was sorry she’d be so far away but that I understood. I asked her if I could watch her take a lesson on the horse and left it at that. I sent it off into the air and foolishly thought I might get an answer soon after my phone reported the message delivered.

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