Who in Hell Is Wanda Fuca? (36 page)

A glint appeared in Tim's eye. He almost smiled.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"He was on his way in when he saw me coming out. He tailed me over to
Ms. Kennedy's. When he saw me come out with Caroline, he followed us down to
Tacoma."

"And saved your ass."

"And saved my ass."

We lapsed into silence. Only the drumming of Tim's untended fingernails on
the wicker. We were alone in the solarium. Frankie was out. The twins waited,
sphinxlike, outside the door. sweat trickled down my neck.

"So, the girl's gonna be all right?"

"The hospital is keeping her overnight, but they say she'll be just
fine. She's got a concussion and a shiner you wouldn't believe."

"And this Kennedy broad's found her a job?"

"One of the doctor's she works with was looking for a nanny. They live
out on Mercer Island. Need somebody to watch their kids during the day. Kennedy
thinks it's the right thing for her. She thinks that maybe if she gets a chance
to spend some time in a - with a - " I searched for words.

"A regular family." Tim helped me out, drilling me with his eyes.

"Something like that," I hedged. "Anyway, she thinks it will
be good for her. Give her a sense of belonging somewhere to something."

He thought it over for a long time. I adjusted the sling cradling my left
arm. The movement made my back throb. The heat was beginning to make my vision
swim. The door behind me opened. I turned carefully. Frankie Ortega,
immaculately dressed in a solid black suit, slid across the floor and took up
his station behind Tim. Tim partially opened his eyes. He made a dismissive gesture
with his right hand.

"She gonna come and see me, Leo?"

"I'll see to it, Tim. As soon as she gets settled in."

"Tell her - " I waited. He waved himself off again.

"Tell her to come and see me."

"I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," he sighed. He drifted off, his chin coming to
rest on the red cardigan sweater. I looked to Frankie.

Frankie gestured with his hand. We went out together, down he long hall,
stopping at the double front doors. He picked up a large blue envelope from a
table behind the left-hand door. The twins had somehow materialized behind us.
They stood silent, rocking on the balls of their feet.

"It's all here, Leo. A little extra too." He was holding the
envelope.

I took it.

"Make sure the girl comes to see him."

"I said I would."

"And you do what you say you're gonna."

"I try."

"Try hard," Frankie said.

I was the last to arrive. Even a man of Jed's singular talents had been
hard-pressed to pry me loose from the cops. It was nearly nine the next evening
before I shuffled up to the Zoo.

The hand-lettered sign on the locked front door read CLOSED FOR REPAIRS.
Yessir, that'd fool ‘em. Unless a detective like me happened by, nobody would
ever suspect that there was some kind of wild, illegal, private party going on
inside the Zoo. If you ignored the sound of broken glass, the banshee yelling,
and the fact that the front door was actually vibrating in time to the bass
speakers on the jukebox, the place was a model of circumspect decorum

Gingerly, trying not to jiggle my upper body, I banged on the door with my
good arm. Nothing. I waited for a break in the howling music. Before I could
react, "I Only Have Eyes for You" was suddenly replaced by "Tie
Me Kangaroo Down, Sport," which, if the sudden caterwauling was any
indication, had been deemed a singalong. Damn. I knocked harder. Still nothing
but more yowling in horribly mimicked Australian accents.

From behind the door came a familiar strained mumble.

"We're closed."

"Ralph, it's Leo."

"Leo who?"

"Goddammit, Ralph, open up."

His face was split with a huge grin as he peeked out through the crack.

"Just kiddin', Leo."

He swung the door wide. I stepped into the melee. Norman and Earlene were
dancing atop the far end of the bar. Their mutual rhythm was nowhere in the
vicinity of the music blasting out of the speakers. Harold and George, their
backs resting on the bar, led a group of twenty or so seriously altered souls
in fevered singing.

The Zoo may have been closed, but the bar was open. All the liquor had been
removed from the glass shelves behind the bar and set out on the bar itself.
Waldo was using the curved silver spout on a bottle of V.O. as a makeshift
whiskey drip. Hector was slow-dancing in the middle of the floor with Mary. The
Speaker was hugging the rail, passed out against the back wall. Might as well
join the party.

As I stepped off into the melee, I was stopped by the sound of a familiar
voice. "You gotta take better care of yourself, Leo."

I glanced over my left shoulder. Daniel Dixon and Miriam Stone occupied the
first two stools along the bar. Daniel was nursing a beer. Miriam had a Coke on
which several cherries floated. Daniel's face crinkled.

"First you lose an earlobe. Now they got you trussed up like a steer.
You keep this up, there ain't gonna be nothin' left of you but a stump."

"Surprise, surprise," I said. "What are you two doing
here?"

"I called your number," he said. "I got - " He pointed
out onto the dance floor.

"Hector?"

"Yeah, Hector. He said they was having this party. Said you'd be here.
You know I wouldn't miss a party." Miriam gave him a gentle elbow.

"Actually, Mr. Waterman," Miriam said, "we came here to thank
you for all of your help."

"Bobby's the one you should be thanking."

She waved me off. "No. If you hadn't kept pushing, I'm sure they would
have gotten away with it. As it is, the Tribal Council is taking a serious look
at its policies. All because you kept pushing."

"If Bobby hadn't show up when he did, the only thing I'd be pushing is
daisies."

"Your friends sure know how to throw a party," Daniel said.

"It's what they do best."

Someone tugged at the back of my jacket. Ralph.

"We're rich, Leo," he shouted.

I held up a finger. When I turned back to Daniel and Miriam, they were
boogieing their way out to the dance floor. I turned back to Ralph.

"Rich, huh? How so Ralph?"

"Buddy left us money."

"Before I could inquire further, George spotted me. Dragging Harold
away from a spirited rendition of "My Way," he shouldered his way
over to me through the undulating crowd. We formed a tight circle.

"You got ‘em, Leo. The papers said you got ‘em," said Harold.

"We got them," I corrected.

"How's the girl?" asked George.

"She'll be fine. She gets out of the hospital in the morning."

"Maybe we should go visit her," Ralph said, a fresh fifth clutched
under each arm. "Be a shame if she missed the party."

"Land of a Thousand Dances" came roaring from the jukebox. The
crowd went wild, erupting into a primitive shout-and-stomp fest.

"Na, na na na na - "

"She's got company. Her boyfriend and Ms. Kennedy are keeping her
company. I don't think Caroline's quite up to this yet."

"Neither was he," said George. He pointed to the single stool at
the door end of the bar. A young fellow in a blue pinstriped suit slept
contentedly, his right ear resting in and ashtray.

"Na na na na na na na na na." The voice rose.

"Who's that?"

"That's the lawyer fro Buddy's insurance company," said George.
"He tracked us down this morning."

"Ralph poured him a couple," chuckled Harold.

"What's this about money?"

"Buddy had insurance. From the paper," said George.

"Two hundred fifty thousand bucks." Harold's eyes rolled.

"Gonna do the Pony, like Boney Maroni - "

"We're buying the rooming house," Ralph said.

"We're gonna be slumlords," said Harold.

"It's a little less than Mrs. Paultz was asking, but she says she wants
us to have it," said George. "She was always a little sweet on
Buddy."

"We was gonna buy the Zoo," said Ralph, dejectedly.

"We talked it over, decided that might not be a good idea," Harold
noted, more for Ralph's benefit than for mine.

"Na na na na na, na na na, na na na na na. Na na na na na- "

" ‘Sides that," said Ralph, "we know lots of people got no
place to go."

"You know a good lawyer, Leo?" asked George

"If I didn't know a good lawyer, I wouldn't be here now."

"Cops was a little pissed?" asked Harold.

"Just a little. They got over it."

"This lawyer of yours. He could help us?" asked George.

"No, but he'll know someone who can. I'll call him in the morning.
We'll find somebody to handle it for you."

We stood, arm-in-arm, somehow encapsulated in our own little buddy of
silence, as the maelstrom swirled about us.

Buddy had been right. I was back.

ÿ