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Through a doorway to my left, I could see solu theenerate the kind of good-natured bantering I’m accustomed to with California Fidelity Two desks were unoccupied, bare of equipment or accouterments

Some attempt had been made to decorate for Christ-mas There was an artificial tree across the roo with hts strung on the tree, which gave it a lifeless air and only pointed up the unifor-mity of the detachable limbs stuck into pre-bored holes in the alu Frorossed close to fifteen million bucks a year, and I wondered why they wouldn’t pop for a live pine

Heather gave an to eat Behind her was a bulletin board decorated with gar-lands of tinsel and covered with snapshots of the family and staff H-A-P-P-Y H-O-L-I-D-A-Y-S was spelled out in jaunty store-bought silver letters

"Mind if I look at that?" I asked, indicating the collage

By then, she had a ed assent, holding a hand in front of her ht of her raphs were of company employees, some of whom I’d seen on the premises Heather was fea-tured in one, her fair hair much shorter, her face still framed in baby fat The braces on her teeth probably rep-resented the last vestige of her teens Wood/Warren raph, four guys in coroup on the front doorstep Some of the shots were stiffly posed, but for the ood-will I wasn’t picking up on currently The founder of the company, Linden "Woody" Wood, had died two years be-fore, and I wondered if soone out of the place with his demise

The Woods themselves formed the centerpiece in a studio portrait that looked like it was taken at the family home Mrs Wood was seated in a French Provincial chair Linden stood with his hand resting on his wife’s shoulder The five grown children were ranged around their par-ents Lance I’d never h school with her Olive, older by a year, had attended Santa Teresa High briefly, but had been sent off to a boarding school in her senior year There was probably a minor scandal attached to that, but I wasn’t sure what it was The oldest of the five was Ebony, who by nowthat she’d est was a son named Bass, not quite thirty, reckless, irresponsi-ble, a failed actor and no-talentin New York City, the last I’d heard I had h my ex-husband, Daniel, a jazz pian-ist Bass was the black sheep of the family I wasn’t sure what the story was on Lance

Seated across his desk froan to pick up a few hints Lance had breezed in at 9:30 The receptionist indicated who I was He introduced himself and we shook hands He said he had a quick phone call to ht with me I said "Fine" and that was the last I saw of him until 10:06 By then, he’d shed his suit coat and loosened his tie along with the top button of his dress shirt He was sitting with his feet up on the desk, his face oily-looking under the fluorescent lights Hewell Some combination of temper and discontent had etched lines near hisan iht brown, thinning on top, and coht the business about the phone call was bullshit He struck me as the sort ofpeople wait His sed with tension

"Sorry for the delay," he said, "What can I do for you?" He was tipped back in his swivel chair, his thighs splayed

"I understand you filed a claiht, and I hope you’re not going to givefor any-thing I’m not entitled to"

Ito conceal the fact that I’d gone on "fraud alert" Every insurance piker I’d ever ht down to the pious little toss of the head I took out my tape re-corder, flicked it on, and set it on the desk "The company requires that I tape the interview," I said