“Glad to see you settle for a minute.”

She laughed. “Oh, I’m turning into my mother. You hardly get Cody out of his cat carrier and I’m telling you, ‘Mangia!’”

“No complaints here.”

We clinked wineglasses in an unspoken toast to one another and drank a few sips in silence.

A few minutes later I was eating as if I still thought I’d grow taller. I paused just long enough between mouthfuls to ask Lydia how her own day had been.

“Well, I didn’t think it was so great until I talked to you about yours.” She stopped smiling for a moment, and I knew she was thinking about O’Connor. “Of course, you know how it began.”

I nodded.

“That creep Wrigley had no sympathy for anyone. We were all upset. His only concern was getting it into the headlines. Then he began to moan and groan about what was going to happen to ‘his story’-can you believe it? He was running around yelling, ‘What about my mayor’s race story?’ I loved old man Wrigley, but some days I wish to God that some outsider had bought the paper when he died. His son is such a loser.”

“So Wrigley’s worried about O’Connor’s stories?”

“Yeah. He’s going nuts about it.”

“Great!” I said. “Look, Lydia-I’ve got another favor to ask of you. I need you to drop a lot of hints to Wrigley about how I knew all about what O’Connor was working on. Then tell him I’m thinking about going to work for the Sacramento Bee. It’s all bullshit, but he won’t figure that out. If he gets nosy, I’ve got a friend at the Bee who’ll make it sound good. Anyway, don’t let him know I’m staying at your place, just tell him you might be seeing me tomorrow night. Make it sound like I’m dying to get back to reporting, but that I didn’t think I’d be welcomed at the Express, after our little, er, misunderstanding.”

At this Lydia hooted. “Misunderstanding!” She refilled our glasses, then asked, “You’re not seriously thinking of coming back to the Express, are you? I’d love it, but I figured you’d never come back. Not after the way he treated you.”

“Lydia, for a good enough reason, I’ll chew a little crow now and again.”

She studied me. “This is about O’Connor, isn’t it? You’re going to look through his papers and try to figure out who killed him.”

“Guilty,” I said. “But nobody can know.”

“It seems to me somebody already knows, Irene. That somebody who blasted out your window this afternoon.”

“Maybe. But my only chance of not living with the sensation that somebody is following me everywhere I go, or to be ducking under a table every time a car slows down in front of my house, is to find these people and figure out what, if anything, O’Connor had on them.”

We drank in silence for a while.

“You’re right,” she sighed. “But it still scares me.”

“It scares me, too. Are you really okay with my staying here? I mean, I’m obviously some sort of target.”

“Get real. As I said, I’m glad you turned to me, Besides, no one knows you’re here, and no one is going to learn it from me.”

Cody had relaxed and was walking around in the kitchen sniffing in the air. Lydia gave him a little lasagna and he devoured it in nothing flat. I helped her clean up, over protests, and then went back to her guest room to unpack my bag. In the meantime she had actually drawn a hot bubble bath for me.

“Lydia, I can’t stay here if you’re going to play Jeeves the whole time.”

“Don’t expect this treatment every day. But I think you’ll find this will help you sleep better.”

It was too tempting to pass up, so I wished her goodnight. I undressed and studied myself in the mirror before stepping into the tub. Not bad, I decided, and then felt embarrassed at my lack of modesty. The bath was great. Lydia had even put some magazines next to the tub. I picked up a Cosmo for the first time since Lydia and I had bought them in college to take the sex quizzes.

Eventually, fully pruned and getting cold, I made myself get out of the tub. I dried off, put on my pajamas, and crawled under the clean sheets. Lydia used a better fabric softener than I did. Cody climbed up next to me, and fell asleep purring. I felt good, like maybe things would come together from here.

ALL NIGHT I DREAMED of breaking glass and O’Connor picking up packages.

IWOKE UP STARTLED by my surroundings, then remembered where I was and why. I was tired even after eight hours of sleep. The morning sun was shining in through the bedroom window, and I heard the sound of Lydia’s car starting up and pulling out of the drive. I had that weird feeling I get sometimes when I sleep at other people’s houses: The bed was oriented differently from my own at home, so I had the sensation of having slept with my head at the foot of the bed.

Cody stretched and yawned and I followed suit, and we both got out of bed. I wasn’t exactly shocked that Lydia had breakfast all laid out for me-cereal, fresh fruit, and a note saying to make myself at home and that she’d see me after work. An envelope marked “spare key” was under the note.

I ate and then called my office.

“Good morning, Malloy and Marlowe,” came the sugar-coated greeting.

“Can you say that three times fast, Clarissa?”

“Oh-hello, Irene. Where are you? Kevin said if you called in, to tell you that you could have a few days off if you’d like.”

“What?”

“Kevin told me about what happened to your friend-he showed me the article in the paper. Kevin said that he had really loved the guy who got killed and that you were almost like the guy’s daughter or something, so he didn’t expect you in for a few days. I’m really sorry it happened, Irene.”

All morning I had wondered what I’d tell Kevin, who seldom takes no for an answer; but I had failed to keep in mind just how much Kevin and O’Connor had meant to each other. The two of them had been friends for many years.

Clarissa was babbling on. “Hey-somebody called for you. A man. Asked if you were in this morning, but wouldn’t leave a name. Said he’d call back later to see if you had come in.”

The hairs on my neck stood on end.

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“Nope, not one of our regular clients, that much I know. You got a new boyfriend or something?”

“Huh? Oh, no. No, I don’t know who it could have been. Look, Clarissa, if he calls back and won’t leave his name, don’t tell him I called, okay? Just tell him you don’t know when I’ll be in, all right?”

That was fine with Clarissa, who was quite used to telling callers something other than the truth when they asked about the whereabouts of Malloy Marlowe employees.

I dreaded the next call. I knew I’d have to talk to my sister, but I was worried about flying off the handle with her, betraying my knowledge of Kenny’s being at her house yesterday before she was ready to tell me herself. I took a lot of deep breaths, took long strides around the den while swinging my arms up over my head to throw off some of the tension.

Cody, perched on the back of Lydia’s couch, looked at me as if I were a lunatic.

I made the call.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hello, Barbara. It’s Irene.”

“Oh, Irene. Do you know where Kenny’s car is?”

“Your father-in-law, my best friend, is dead-no, make that murdered-and the first thing you ask me about is Kenny’s fucking car?!?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. I’d blown it already.

“Barbara, I’m sorry. I’m a mess. A real mess.” Deep breath.

Still no response. I waited.

“No need to be foul-mouthed, Irene. Mama would be so ashamed to hear you talk like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Damn that bitch for trying to invoke our dead mother to stop me from swearing. Frank was asking too much. But I couldn’t think of anyone else besides Kenny who could tell me what might be behind all of this. And Barbara was the only way I could find Kenny.