Wish and Sandy were waiting in the conference room.

“Better get going,” she said. “Check what got sold and who paid and whatever you can figure out for the day before the shooting. Call me tonight if you learn anything. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Court is at nine-thirty,” Sandy reminded her.

“Right. Sandy, call Dave Hanna. Then call Chelsi Freeman. Make sure Hanna’s got a ride up the Hill. If there’s any problem, Wish, will you go down there early and bring him up?”

Wish nodded, pulled on the jacket, and left.

Sandy said, “Well, well. I had my doubts. His room at home still has his old penguin posters on the wall, and he still keeps his clothes on the closet floor.”

Nina said, “He’s grown up a lot. I’ve watched Wish for two years. He’s very dedicated. And he was trained well.”

“He always planned to be a cop.”

“He could still do that someday.”

“He’ll be moving out soon. Find some girl.”

“Yes, he will.”

“The boys, they always move to wherever the girl’s mother lives. My girls, they’ll stick around.”

“He’ll find someone here.”

“You know anybody?”

The question was rhetorical. But Nina thought of Chelsi.

Ten P.M. in the Reilly household, Bob in the living room watching a reality show, Nina blowing out her damp hair in the upstairs bathroom, wrapped in her green silk kimono.

“Bob?”

“Yeah!”

She unplugged the dryer and leaned over the railing. “I talked to your dad yesterday! Could you turn that down!”

“She’s about to roll over in the kayak!”

“Turn it down!”

“What!”

“Your dad and I don’t think a visit to Germany right now is a good idea!”

He turned it down and the silence bristled. She could see him sprawled on the couch with Hitchcock. His head turned toward her and he said, “It was all your idea, wasn’t it? I know my dad wanted to see me.”

“Of course he did, but he agreed that right now-”

“He’s not doin’ so good. I told you. Why can’t I go?”

“Well, you’ve been doing a lot of moving around-”

“You mean you have, and you drag me along.”

Stung, Nina said, “You sound like a punk. I don’t like your tone.”

Bob didn’t answer this.

Nina considered her remark and realized she was out of line. But Bob had been, too. “I know you’ve been working hard. It’s admirable, the way you and Taylor have gone around the neighborhood. I doubt I could have done that at fourteen.”

“Okay, then.” He sounded as though he had reconsidered, too. He didn’t want to argue any more than she did.

“We’ll talk about it some more in a few days. Meantime, speaking of removal of hazardous wastes, our recycling bin is overflowing.”

“As soon as this show is over.”

“Sure.” They had passed through some sort of delicate and subtle negotiation, and they were still friends. She had extracted an okay from Bob. He still did as he was told. But she couldn’t read him like before, as though his transparent heart were being infiltrated by the shadows and solids of coming adulthood.

11

A BRIGHT MORNING AMID THE PINES, THE Springmeyer fountain actually spouting water for once in the courthouse yard, a couple of police officers exiting the adjacent station with coffee in their hands, stopping to watch the squirrels. Betty Jo Puckett came marching up the trail with her client, wearing a dark pantsuit and a diamond solitaire at her throat.

“Morning!” she called out. Nina stopped and shook hands. Bova wore a wool sports jacket. His hand squeezed Nina’s.

“It’s all over, then?” he said.

“Your part in the case is. With a few caveats.”

“I explained the conditions to Jimmy. We’re willing to go with those. You have the paperwork?” Betty Jo said.

“I’ll give you copies as soon as we’re inside, so you can look them over before the case is called.”

“Everything’s hunky-dory, then. I assume Mr. Hanna will be here?”

“Due any minute.”

“Anything else we need to talk about?”

“A receipt,” Nina said. They had paused in the shade just outside the doors to court. Nina nodded to a lawyer she knew who was just going in.

“You’re as good as they say,” Betty Jo said. “How did you ever learn about it? We were going to give you that as soon as we had the file-stamped paperwork.”

“I don’t want it,” Nina said. “I want to look at it but not touch it. Then I want Mr. Bova to deliver it to Sergeant Cheney with a full explanation.”

“Absolutely. Jimmy, show it to her right now, okay?” Bova reached into his pocket and pulled out a small unsealed envelope. The Sierra Books receipt was inside.

“I still don’t know if it belonged to the witnesses,” he said. “Could have been the people in the motel room the day before.” He held it out and Nina examined it. Then she reached into her briefcase and got out a copy of it. Wish had slipped it under her office door the night before.

“Yes, that’s it,” she said. “I’ll be checking to make sure that goes into police evidence.”

“Wow!” Betty Jo said. “I’m outclassed, no doubt about it. We didn’t follow up, no need to since the case wasn’t happening. But what did you learn? I’m as curious as hell.”

“It was a cash purchase the day before the shooting,” Nina said. “The clerk can’t remember anything about the purchaser, not at this late date.”

“How did you learn there was a receipt, though?”

“Good investigative work,” Nina said briefly.

“I guess you’re not violating anybody’s privacy if it’s a cash purchase,” Betty Jo said as if to herself.

“Not at all,” Nina said.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Bova said. “I just didn’t feel it was important. Betty Jo didn’t hear about it until last week.”

“I scolded the shit out of him,” Betty Jo said. “He knows if you get any farther finding the shooter, he’s going to have to testify about it. He’s going to cooperate fully. So what books did the witnesses buy? Most bookstore receipts these days list the titles.”

“They do.”

“And?”

“That’s no longer your concern,” Nina said. “I’m letting you settle out of the case without making an issue out of this, but your client withheld evidence. I’m not in a position to share information I obtained in spite of his obstructive tactics.”

“Oh, come on,” Bova said. “Somebody bought a book. Big deal.” He gave her one of those speculative looks again, looked her up and down as if she were a doll propped up for viewing. It was obscurely exciting, and for the moment it took to catch that flashing glance Nina thought, Why not? He wanted her, and that was almost enough.

A whiff of his cologne reached her. He was from a world where men wear cologne. Not aftershave, not good soap, but a perfumy, expensive spritzer from a department store. Was this where she was heading? For anybody who asked? It struck her that she wasn’t looking for love anymore, that she had dropped out of that endeavor because it was just too hard.

Still. Not Bova. Not yet.

She looked away, toward the fountain, and Bova shrugged.

“Hush up, Jimmy. I understand, Nina. You’re right. It’s none of our business. Jimmy wants out, that’s the main thing. Let’s go in.”

They had to wait almost an hour while Judge Flaherty disposed of more urgent matters. Nina sat in her hard chair up front, watching the parade of the wronged with their petitions and their lawyers. Dave Hanna finally arrived about twenty minutes into the court session and took a seat in back.

Judge Flaherty, fiftyish and florid, had adopted a more judicious attitude since his elevation to the superior-court bench. He processed the cases efficiently and at ten-twenty he pulled out a file and said, “Hanna versus Ace High Lodge, motion to dismiss.”

“Good morning, Your Honor.” Betty Jo introduced herself and her client. Nina did the same, and sat down with Hanna.