Whispers. Part 18

"That's him," she said. "I'm positive. I've been positive all along. I'll have nightmares for a long time."

Lieutenant Howard nodded to the morgue attendant beyond the window, and the man covered the corpse.

Another absurd but chilling thought struck her: What if it sits up on the cart and throws the sheet off?

"We'll take you home now," Clemenza said.

She walked out of the room ahead of them, miserable because she had killed a man--but thoroughly relieved and even delighted that he was dead.

They took her home in the unmarked police sedan. Frank drove, and Tony sat up front. Hilary Thomas sat in the back, shoulders drawn up a bit, arms crossed, as if she was cold on such a warm late-September day.

Tony kept finding excuses to turn around and speak to her. He didn't want to take his eyes off her. She was so lovely that he made him feel as he sometimes did in a great museum, when he stood before a particularly exquisite painting done by one of the old masters.

She responded to him, even gave him a couple of smiles, but she wasn't in the mood for light conversation. She was wrapped up in her own thoughts, mostly staring out the side window, mostly silent.

When they pulled into the circular driveway at her place and stopped in front of the door, Frank Howard turned to her and said, "Miss Thomas ... I ... well ... I owe you an apology."

Tony was not startled by the admission, but he was somewhat surprised by the sincere note of contrition in Frank's voice and the supplicatory expression on his face; meekness and humility were not exactly Frank's strongest suits.

Hilary Thomas also seemed surprised. "Oh ... well ... I suppose you were only doing your job."

"No," Frank said. "That's the problem. I wasn't doing my job. At least I wasn't doing it well."

"It's over now," she said.

"But will you accept my apologies?"

"Well ... of course," she said uncomfortably.

"I feel very bad about the way I treated you."

"Frye won't be bothering me any more," she said. "So I guess that's all that really matters."

Tony got out of the car and opened her door. She could not get out by herself because the rear doors of the sedan had no inside handles, a deterrent to escape-minded prisoners. Besides, he wanted to accompany her to the house.

"You may have to testify at a coroner's inquest," he said as they approached the house.

"Why? When I stabbed him, Frye was in my place, against my wishes. He was threatening my life."

"Oh, there's no doubt it's a simple case of self-defense," Tony said quickly. "If you have to appear at an inquest, it'll just be a formality. There's no chance in the world that any sort of charges will be brought or anything like that."

She unlocked the front door, opened it, turned to him, smiled radiantly. "Thank you for believing in me last night, even after what the Napa County Sheriff said."

"We'll be checking into him," Tony said. "He's got some explaining to do. If you're interested, I'll let you know what his excuse is."

"I am curious," she said.

"Okay. I'll let you know."

"Thank you."

"It's no bother."

She stepped into the house.

He didn't move.

She looked back at him.

He smiled stupidly.

"Is there anything eise?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"What?"

"One more question."

"Yes?"

He had never felt so awkward with a woman before.

"Would you have dinner with me Sat.u.r.day?"

"Oh," she said. "Well ... I don't think I can."

"I see."

"I mean, I'd like to."

"You would?"

"But I really don't have much time for a social life these days," she said.

"I see."

"I've just gotten this deal with Warner Brothers, and it's going to keep me busy day and night."

"I understand," he said.

He felt like a high school boy who had just been turned down by the popular cheerleader.

"It was very nice of you to ask," she said.

"Sure. Well ... good luck with Warner Brothers."

"Thank you."

"I'll let you know about Sheriff Laurenski."

"Thank you."

He smiled, and she smiled.

He turned away, started toward the car, and heard the door of the house close behind him. He stopped and looked back at it.

A small toad hopped out of the shrubbery, onto the stone footpath in front of Tony. It sat in the middle of the walk and peered up at him, its eyes rolled way back to achieve the necessary angle, its tiny green-brown chest rapidly expanding and contracting.

Tony looked at the toad and said, "Did I give up too easily?"

The little toad made a peeping-croaking sound.

"What have I got to lose?" Tony asked.

The toad peeped-croaked again.

"That's the way I look at it. I've got nothing to lose."

He stepped around the amphibian cupid and rang the bell. He could sense Hilary Thomas looking at him through the one-way peephole lens, and when she opened the door a second later, he spoke before she could. "Am I terribly ugly?"

"What?"

"Do I look like Quasimodo or something?"

"Really, I--"

"I don't pick my teeth in public," he said.

"Lieutenant Clemenza--"

"Is it because I'm a cop?"

"What?"

"You know what some people think?"

"What do some people think?"

"They think cops are socially unacceptable."

"Well, I'm not one of those people."

"You're not a sn.o.b?"

"No. I just--"

"Maybe you turned me down because I don't have a lot of money and don't live in Westwood."

"Lieutenant, I've spent most of my life without money, and I haven't always lived in Westwood."

"Then I wonder what's wrong with me," he said, looking down at himself in mock bewilderment.

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing's wrong with you, Lieutenant."

"Thank G.o.d!"

"Really, I said no for just one reason. I don't have time for--"

"Miss Thomas, even the President of the United States manages to take a night off now and then. Even the head of General Motors has leisure time. Even the Pope. Even G.o.d rested the seventh day. No one can be busy all the time."

"Lieutenant--"

"Call me Tony."

"Tony, after what I've been through the last two days, I'm afraid I wouldn't be a barrel of laughs."

"If I wanted to go to dinner with a barrel of laughs, I'd take a bunch of monkeys."

She smiled again, and he wanted to take her beautiful face in his hands and kiss it all over.

She said, "I'm sorry. But I need to be alone for a few days."

"That's exactly what you don't need after the sort of experience you've had. You need to get out, be among people, get your spirits up. And I'm not the only one who thinks so." He turned and pointed to the stone footpath behind him. The toad was still there. It had turned around to look at them.

"Ask Mr. Toad," Tony said.

"Mr. Toad?"

"An acquaintance of mine. A very wise person." Tony stooped down and stared at the toad. "Doesn't she need to get out and enjoy herself, Mr. Toad?"

It blinked slow heavy lids and made its funny little sound right on cue.

"You're absolutely correct," Tony told it. "And don't you think I'm the one she should go out with?"

"Scree-ooak," it said.

"And what will you do to her if she turns me down again?"

"Scree-ooak, scree-ooak."

"Ahhh," Tony said, nodding his head in satisfaction as he stood up.

"Well, what did he say?" Hilary asked, grinning. "What will he do to me if I won't go out with you--give me warts?"

Tony looked serious. "Worse than that. He tells me he'll get into the walls of your house, work his way up to your bedroom, and croak so loudly every night that you won't be able to sleep until you give in."