Gumshoe for Two by Rob Leininger

Author:Rob Leininger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2017-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

And that’s why I lost another sonofabitchin’ hour of sleep then dreamed I was in a supermarket buying cantaloupes.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JERI PHONED AT six thirty the next morning, Monday, when Holiday and I were still asleep. She apologized for the early call, but Ma had come up with another lead, one that looked promising. Jeri wanted to wait until I got back to Reno so she and I could pursue it together, so—an early wake-up call to get us up and moving.

Holiday and I piled out of bed. Well, she did. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched while she dressed—which, walking around and sorting through various clothing options, took her a while—not a bad thing to wake up to in the morning. Almost as good as coffee. Caffeinated.

“Rushed it,” I said. “Three minutes, forty-five seconds.”

“Rushed what?”

“Gathering clothes, putting them on.”

She smiled, fastening the last button on a fresh shirt. “Well . . . I was sort of embarrassed. Which was strange, but kind of nice, too. I mean, it had a little more zing to it than before, probably because of our talking last night.”

“Zing is good, now turn your back.”

She laughed.

We ate breakfast in the hotel café, and passed the city limit on the way north at seven fifty a.m. after verifying that Martin Harris had indeed had his car repaired at Desert Eagle Body Shop in Vegas during the time he said it was there. This was investigation at a snail’s pace. His Mercedes SUV wasn’t the one we were trying to find. One down, eight to go. Jeri had told me investigations lead to dead ends more often than not, so get used to it.

Ma had come up with another hot lead. I hoped it was hotter than the one we’d just followed. I put the Toyota up to seventy-five and hustled us back to Reno. In the desert, with sage-covered playas sloping upward into dry barren hills, I saw a tear roll down Sarah’s cheek.

“Hey,” I said.

She gave me a wan smile and wiped her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I’m just being silly. Do you have Kleenex in here?”

I got a small package of tissues out of the glove box, handed it to her.

She took one, dabbed her eyes, and sniffed. “It’s been so good for me lately. I mean, it’s been so intense, not like in the bars. But it can’t last, since you’ve got Jeri. Then it’ll be back to . . . well, to sort of nothing much.”

“There are a lot of guys out there, Sarah.”

Her voice took on a bluesy note. “Sure. Boy Scout types who like to look but don’t need more than that. Lots of ’em out there.”

Damn. That Boy Scout thing again.

“You’re like one in a million, Mort. In case you didn’t know.”

Well . . . yeah.

“So,” she went on, “I guess I’m crying about what I’ve lost. Or will lose in a while—soon, most likely. I know it’s dumb, but if this ends, which I guess it’ll have to, then what? I know I’ll live, but life will be so empty and gray.

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