Page 63 of The Happy Month
I smiled at that. She was referencing a joke that has made the rounds a hundred times. What does a lesbian do on a second date? Rent a U-Haul. But that wasn’t Vera. She liked to get around, and she chose women who’d have trouble maintaining a relationship.
“Does she remember anything specific around the time of Vera’s murder?”
She took a moment. I could tell she was having a little trouble remembering. Then, “I think she said once that she had an idea about who murdered her, but she didn’t say who it was. We were probably drinking. She was a bartender at Que Sera until about five years ago.”
“Okay, if she thinks she knows who killed Vera then I really do need to talk to her. She’s not here now, is she?”
She didn’t answer, so I took that as a no.
“Do you know why her phone’s disconnected?”
“Someone forgot to pay the bill.”
That was vague.
“So, what’s a good time to catch her?”
“Do you have a card or something?” she said. Then added, “It’s the best I’m going to do.”
I wasn’t happy about that. Even so, I took a business card out of my wallet – Ronnie had made it for me on his printer – and held it through the gate. She snatched it like my fingers might burn.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I said.
“You don’t know what’s going to hurt her.” Then she turned and walked away from me. I stood there watching as she disappeared. That had been helpful and not helpful at the same time. Rocky thought she knew who might have killed Vera. That mattered.
I started walking back to The Freedom Agenda and decided I’d pick up coffee for everyone. There was a little shop right on the edge of the East Village. I stopped in and ordered two regular lattes and one vanilla soy. They gave me a little cardboard carrier, and I walked the three blocks back to the office trying to think of other ways I could get to Rocky Havoc.
It was after ten when I got back to the office. When I set Karen’s coffee in front of her, she raised an eyebrow. Then I stepped around the corner so I could see if Lydia’s door was still shut.
“Has she been out at all?”
“Not yet.”
I looked down at the coffee I was holding and said, “Wish me luck.”
“You may need it.”
I knocked on Lydia’s door. I heard her say yes, so I opened the door. She was dressed casually and had a very glum look on her face. Several thick legal books were open on her desk.
“I broughtyou a coffee.”
“Thank you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m ruminating.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No. Legal questions. I have a few calls out.”
I nodded. “I have to drive over to be in Palm Springs Thursday and Friday for the Karpinski thing.”
“Really? You’re getting a vacation out of that?”
“Looks like. It’s actually only half them. I’m also going to stop in Riverside to talk to the journalist who wrote the first story about the Michaels murder. That piece first mentioned the idea of an engagement.”
“Don’t mention that to Edmund. I don’t want to pay for half your trip.”
