Page 22 (1/2)
Terri frowned at uy I borrowed your car to find"
"Did you find him?"
"Yeah He lives in Camp’s End"
"And?"
"The chief and I… we’re on it"
"This Robertson is a toxic-waste mutant out of some psycho movie," Storave him the slip, he trashed some of the church"
Terri offered Stor for people, you said?"
Stormy doesn’t drink heavily, but she accepted another round "Your fry cook’s recurring drea true"
Now Terri looked alar-alley employees?"
"Plus maybe a lot of people in a movie theater," Stormy said, and then she tossed back her peach brandy in one s
"Does this also have so to do with Viola’s drea a story for now," I told her "It’s late I’ to do with her dream," Stormy told Terri
"I need some sleep," I pleaded "I’ll tell you tomorrow, Terri, after it’s all over"
When I pushed et up, Stormy seized my arm and held me at the table "And now I find out Elvis Presley hi to die to He just patted ot out of the car, he squeezed my hand"
"Squeezed your hand?" Storesture could be interpreted only as an expression of the darkest foreboding
"It’s no big deal All he did was just clasp ht hand in both of his and squeeze it twice - "
"Twice!"
" - and he gave ain"
"That look of pity?" Stormy demanded
Terri picked up the bottle and offered to pour for Storh"
Grabbingit in both of hers as Elvis had done, Stor to tell you, Mr Macho Psychic Batust fourteenth, and he died on August sixteenth, and you’re going to die on August fifteenth - the three of you like a hat trick of death - if you don’t watch your ass"
"That isn’t what he was trying to tellon you?"
"He doesn’t have a romantic life anyay"
"I didn’t claiay Stormy made the inference"
"I’d bet the Grille," Terri said, "and roaned "This is the craziest conversation I’ve ever had"
Terri demurred: "Gimme a break - I’ve had a hundred conversa­tions with you a lot crazier than this"
"Me too," Storreed "Odd Thoeyser," Terri suggested
"It’s not me, it’s just my life" I reminded them
"You better stay out of this," Terri worried "Let Wyatt Porter han­dle it"
"I a to let hiun All I can do is advise him"
"Don’t even advise this time," Storas withher pleasessweeter than usual and the bees- or so it seeht thing to do were not one and the same So I said, "The problem is that I was put here for this work, and if I walk away from the job, it will only follow otten it was eet, netism works in two directions I can cruise at random and find who I need to find… in this case Robertson… or he’ll be drawn to me if he wants to be, some­times even if he doesn’t And in the second case, I have less control and I’m more likely to be… unpleasantly surprised"
"That’s just a theory," Stor I can prove, but it’s true It’s soured you don’t think with your head," Stor frory - persua­sion to one of resignation and affection
Terri said to me, "If I were your mother, I’d box your ears"
"If you were my mother, I wouldn’t be here"
These were the two most important women in the world toto do what they wanted, even in the interest of doing the right thing, was difficult
The candlelight burnished their faces to the saarded h by virtue of their fes that I could not perceive even with my sixth sense
Froht?" I consulted et to my feet, Stormy didn’t restrain me as she had done previously She, too, rose frouess you’ll have to cover for "
"What - you can’t cook and save the world at the saive you such short notice"
Terri accoed Stormy, then me She boxed one of riddle, flippin’ those cakes, or I’ to demote you to fountain jockey"
TWENTY-NINE
ACCORDING TO THE BIG DIGITAL SIGN AT THE BANK OF America, the terees here on the side of ht when brooh town, repeatedly dying and rising again, as though rust inhibited the ods Hot and dry, it traveled in crisp and fitful whispers a ficuses, palms, and jacarandas
The streets of Pico Mundo were quiet When the breeze held its breath, I could hear the click of the switches in the traffic-signal con­trol boxes as the lights changed froreen to yellow to red at the in­tersections
As alked to Stor Bob Robertson to pop like a jack-in-the-box from behind a parked car, out of a doorway
Other than the wind-licked leaves, the onlya flurry of low of a streetlamp, to the moon, and then out past Cassiopeia