Cold Case by Linda Barnes

card. Did you string him along?”
    â€œOf course, babe.”
    â€œWhat did Mr. Emerson want?”
    â€œJust that you return his call immediately: 555-8330. You got that? Emphasis on fast, as in right now. Hell, I’m scared to keep you on the line.”
    â€œMight as well.” I’d been fired. I had no further interest in the Avon Hill School and their precious alumnae. That’s what half of me was thinking. The other half was busily refusing to accept what Mooney had said, what Mayhew hadn’t denied. I wanted to hang on to this case, hang on to Thea.
    Thea Janis, murdered, all her promise laid to rest.
    â€œHeard from Sam?” Gloria asked, way too casually.
    My antennae tingled. Gloria has a deep-seated interest in keeping Sam and me together. I don’t know why, but in the depths of her fantasies, Sam and I are Gloria’s dream couple. Maybe it’s because she introduced us, watched as we made the too-quick transition from boss and worker to friends and finally lovers, enjoyed each step vicariously. We couldn’t be more different, Sam and I, more ill-matched. Mix one former cop with the son of a family of robbers: It’s no recipe for bliss.
    â€œPostcard or two,” I said tersely.
    â€œHoney, I been meaning to say this for some time—”
    Whenever someone says that to you, take my advice, hang up.
    Gloria said, “Why the hell don’t you drop that shrink? You think you need some kinda analysis, go ahead and pay for it. That man’s no good for you.”
    â€œGloria, what makes you think you know what’s good for me?”
    â€œIf Sam was good for you, that headshrinker can’t be. No way.”
    â€œI’ll tell you a secret, Gloria.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œSam wasn’t that good.”
    â€œCome on.”
    â€œGloria, let’s change the subject and stay friends.”
    â€œYou ain’t gonna marry that doc?”
    â€œMarry? Gloria, I tried it once, I’m not going to try it again. If I ever send you a wedding invitation, call Mooney and have him lock me up. I mean it.”
    Her laugh was a gigantic musical bubble. I gave it the raspberry.
    She said, “Paolina call you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œShe called me. From a pay phone in town. Paid with her own money.” There was immense satisfaction in her voice. For a corresponding moment, I felt deserted and jealous. Why hadn’t my little sister phoned me?
    â€œThat gal is such a sweetie, wanted to know how I was doin’ and all. Maybe being alone up at that camp made her understand a little bit what I been feeling since Marvin died. She’s one darlin’ child.”
    I said, “Do you think she’s lonely? Is she making any friends?”
    I could almost see Gloria shrug her enormous shoulders. She can move her torso. The auto accident that left her paralyzed at nineteen did its damage from the waist down.
    â€œDid she want anything?” I asked.
    â€œJust asked if she could send me some candy.”
    â€œLook, Gloria, are you busy?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI need information on Paolina’s biological father. Do you have access to phones?”
    â€œI’m dispatching for ITOA.”
    â€œI wouldn’t want to get the indies in trouble,” I said. ITOA is the Independent Taxi Owners Association.
    â€œWhat kind of trouble?”
    â€œThe guy with the goods is a nasty Florida drug lawyer. Number one: I’m sure he’s got caller ID, and he’s not going to respond to any calls from my line. Number two: DEA’s got his phone tapped.”
    â€œSo you want me to dial him? Mess with the DEA? No thanks.”
    â€œWhat I was about to say, Glory, is that the ideal situation would be to place calls from folks we don’t particularly like, let the DEA get a fix on them.”
    Gloria said, “I do enjoy the way your mind works.”
    â€œI’ve got a little list,” I