Monkey Wrench by Terri Thayer Page A

games.
    After dinner, I cleaned up while Buster checked ESPN.
    “I’m going to take a bath,” I said.
    It was the middle of Sports Center, so he had no objection. I pulled off my clothes and sat on the edge of the tub, letting my hand dangle in the water. I could barely wait for the tub to fill up. My hot water heater gurgled and complained as I taxed it to the maximum, asking for the hottest it could give me. I was afraid the old thing would blow up before I got a full tub.
    I brought my iPod in and set it to Lucinda Williams, Shelby Lynne, and Rosanne Cash. I needed the plaintive sounds of country music to carry me far from Silicon Valley.
    I added bubble bath, and then added more. It had been a two-capful week.
    A bubble drifted up and popped. I caught another one on my palm. I imagined Vangie’s troubles inside that bubble. When it popped, I felt a little sense of release. I tried it again. Wyatt. Pop.
    Barb V. Pop. The Crawl. Pop. Pearl. Pop. Pop. Pop.
    Silly but it worked. I climbed into the tub already more relaxed. I closed my eyes and eased back.
    I heard Buster come in and sit on the toilet seat. “Feeling better?”
    “Getting there,” I said, without opening my eyes.
    “Can I wash your back?” he asked.
    I leaned forward in answer. I let my head and arms fall as he went to work with the scratchy loofah.
    “You seem pretty tense,” he said. “Vangie?”
    “And I’m worried about Pearl. Vangie was sort of looking after her, but now—”
    I didn’t have to say more. Buster nodded.
    I continued, “I heard about this great service. The kids at State set it up. An older woman can get a young man as a roommate. She rents him a room for cheap, and in turn he helps out around the house.”
    Buster looked skeptical. “Why would a college kid want to live with an old lady?”
    “Watch it. Pearl would not appreciate that kind of talk.”
    “You know what I mean. What’s in it for him?”
    “Cheap rent, close to school. A home-cooked meal once a day. Wouldn’t you have liked that when you were in college?”
    “Nope, I much preferred living with four guys, none of whom could boil water and only one of whom hit the toilet with any regularity.”
    I splashed Buster. “Is that where your neatnik tendencies come from? Frat house trauma?”
    He splashed me back. Water dripped from his nose. I brushed it away.
    “I was never in a fraternity and you know it. We lived in a condemned public housing tract because it was the cheapest rent we could find.”
    Buster was the son of a single mom. Money had always been an issue in his life.
    “So if there had been a wonderful older lady you could have lived with, wouldn’t you?” I leaned back. “I think it sounds sweet.”
    “Are you sure this guy isn’t after her bank account?”
    “That would never happen. No way, not after what happened to Tess and Celeste. Pearl is too smart for that.”
    “What about Hiro’s vinyl collection? Isn’t that worth some money?”
    I sat up straight. “Yeah, but it’s not like someone could walk out with hundreds and hundreds of records.”
    “And you should warn her not to let the guy use her car. There could be expensive ramifications if he gets into a wreck.”
    My heart sank. Of course he was thinking of problems I’d never dreamed up.
    “Buster, you ruin everything. Why do you have to be a cop? You’re always looking for trouble.”
    He shrugged, wrung out the loofah, and set it on the edge of the tub.
    It was like asking a cat why it hated dogs. That was Buster’s nature.
    I closed my eyes. He did have a point. I didn’t know much about this kid. I’d been so eager to get Pearl some help, I hadn’t really thought it through.
    I’d call Pearl in the morning and tell her I’d had second thoughts. Slow it down.
    I conceded, “Maybe we’ll hold off until I can look into this a little further. Get some references, talk to some others.”
    “That’s a plan.”
    “As long as you’re in cop mode, can you