now.”
“Corri. Oh, damn, I meant to call her …” India dragged her hand through her hair and sighed deeply, berating herself for the oversight.
“She’s right here, Indy.” August handed the phone to Corri.
“Indy?” The sweet little girl voice poured like liquid sunshine through the wires.
“Hey, sugar.” India tried to think of some excuse for not having called in the morning, as she had said she would do. “Corri, I meant to—”
“It’s okay, Indy. Nick took me fishing,” she announced.
“This morning?” India relaxed. Corri wouldn’t have been home if she had remembered to call.
“No, this afternoon. To make me feel better.”
Ouch.
“Did you feel badly because I forgot to call?”
“I just felt sad because you weren’t here. But Darla said that after you put the bad guys in jail you’ll come home.”
“Darla is right, sugar.”
“Indy …”
“What, Corri?”
“Do you have to put away all the bad guys, or just a few, before you can come home?”
India smiled. “Just the ones that get caught in Paloma. I doubt anyone could put away all the bad guys.”
“You could,” Corri said confidently. “Ry said you were the best prostitutor in Paloma.”
“That’ss ‘prosecutor,’ Corri.” India laughed, and through the phone line, she could hear August laughing too. “Say the word, so you’ll remember it correctly.”
“Posse-cutor.”
“That’s a little better, but you still need some practice. Maybe you’ll have that down pat by the time I come home.”
“When will that be? Tomorrow? It’s the weekend.”
“I’m afraid not, sweetie. I have to get ready for Monday. I have a lot of reading to do between now and then.”
“But when the bad guy’s in jail, will you come home?”
“You can bet the ranch,” India told her.
Corri giggled. “We don’t have a ranch.”
“Oh, you’re right. Well then, you can bet the dunes.”
“Will it be next week?”
“Next week might be a little too soon.”
“That’s what Nick said. He said he thought it might take a while. He said this was a really bad man and it might take a while for everyone to come in and tell the judge just how bad he is.”
“Nick is a pretty smart fellow.”
“He is, Indy. Oh, he said to say hi for him when I talked to you. So hi from Nick.”
“Tell him hi back.”
Roxanne called over the intercom that dinner had arrived.
“Listen, Corri, I’m going to go and have some dinner.” India was suddenly starving.
“We had dinner,” Corri told her. “We had fish that Nick and I caught. Aunt August let him stay for dinner. And Ollie and Darla and Jack too.”
“You must have caught a lot of fish,” India noted somewhat wistfully, imagining them all in the Devlins’ old kitchen, crowded around Aunt August as she worked miracles with an old black iron griddle and some freshly caught fish. Her mouth began to water at the thought of it. “Is he still there? Nick?”
“No. He left to drive Darla and Jack home. Ollie is sleeping over with me. Tomorrow Aunt August is taking me and Ollie to the library for the story hour.”
“That sounds like fun. Call me tomorrow night and you can tell me all about the story, okay?”
“Okay. I will.”
“Now put Aunt August back on the phone,” India instructed.
“You did miss a lovely dinner,” August told her. “Corri and Nick caught a couple of blues that would have knocked your socks off.”
“I am sorry I missed it.” Mentally, Indy amended her earlier fantasy. Bluefish would have been stuffed with a savory stuffing—cornbread, perhaps, or maybe sage—and wrapped in foil and baked in the oven to the perfect degree of flakiness.
“And we all missed you,” August told her. “Nick asked for your phone number. I didn’t think you’d mind if I gave it to him.”
“Not at all,” India said, playing with the cap from a Bic pen. “He promised to get me a list of Ry’s acquaintances from Bayview and from the Save the Bay
“Corri. Oh, damn, I meant to call her …” India dragged her hand through her hair and sighed deeply, berating herself for the oversight.
“She’s right here, Indy.” August handed the phone to Corri.
“Indy?” The sweet little girl voice poured like liquid sunshine through the wires.
“Hey, sugar.” India tried to think of some excuse for not having called in the morning, as she had said she would do. “Corri, I meant to—”
“It’s okay, Indy. Nick took me fishing,” she announced.
“This morning?” India relaxed. Corri wouldn’t have been home if she had remembered to call.
“No, this afternoon. To make me feel better.”
Ouch.
“Did you feel badly because I forgot to call?”
“I just felt sad because you weren’t here. But Darla said that after you put the bad guys in jail you’ll come home.”
“Darla is right, sugar.”
“Indy …”
“What, Corri?”
“Do you have to put away all the bad guys, or just a few, before you can come home?”
India smiled. “Just the ones that get caught in Paloma. I doubt anyone could put away all the bad guys.”
“You could,” Corri said confidently. “Ry said you were the best prostitutor in Paloma.”
“That’ss ‘prosecutor,’ Corri.” India laughed, and through the phone line, she could hear August laughing too. “Say the word, so you’ll remember it correctly.”
“Posse-cutor.”
“That’s a little better, but you still need some practice. Maybe you’ll have that down pat by the time I come home.”
“When will that be? Tomorrow? It’s the weekend.”
“I’m afraid not, sweetie. I have to get ready for Monday. I have a lot of reading to do between now and then.”
“But when the bad guy’s in jail, will you come home?”
“You can bet the ranch,” India told her.
Corri giggled. “We don’t have a ranch.”
“Oh, you’re right. Well then, you can bet the dunes.”
“Will it be next week?”
“Next week might be a little too soon.”
“That’s what Nick said. He said he thought it might take a while. He said this was a really bad man and it might take a while for everyone to come in and tell the judge just how bad he is.”
“Nick is a pretty smart fellow.”
“He is, Indy. Oh, he said to say hi for him when I talked to you. So hi from Nick.”
“Tell him hi back.”
Roxanne called over the intercom that dinner had arrived.
“Listen, Corri, I’m going to go and have some dinner.” India was suddenly starving.
“We had dinner,” Corri told her. “We had fish that Nick and I caught. Aunt August let him stay for dinner. And Ollie and Darla and Jack too.”
“You must have caught a lot of fish,” India noted somewhat wistfully, imagining them all in the Devlins’ old kitchen, crowded around Aunt August as she worked miracles with an old black iron griddle and some freshly caught fish. Her mouth began to water at the thought of it. “Is he still there? Nick?”
“No. He left to drive Darla and Jack home. Ollie is sleeping over with me. Tomorrow Aunt August is taking me and Ollie to the library for the story hour.”
“That sounds like fun. Call me tomorrow night and you can tell me all about the story, okay?”
“Okay. I will.”
“Now put Aunt August back on the phone,” India instructed.
“You did miss a lovely dinner,” August told her. “Corri and Nick caught a couple of blues that would have knocked your socks off.”
“I am sorry I missed it.” Mentally, Indy amended her earlier fantasy. Bluefish would have been stuffed with a savory stuffing—cornbread, perhaps, or maybe sage—and wrapped in foil and baked in the oven to the perfect degree of flakiness.
“And we all missed you,” August told her. “Nick asked for your phone number. I didn’t think you’d mind if I gave it to him.”
“Not at all,” India said, playing with the cap from a Bic pen. “He promised to get me a list of Ry’s acquaintances from Bayview and from the Save the Bay
Similar Books
