No offence Intended - Barbara Seranella by Barbara Seranella Page A

miles from here. You could be
there in three hours."
    "I've got a job," Munch said.
    "Just tell Wizard you need some family time."
    "I don't work for Wizard anymore. A lot of
things have changed."
    "I've got a lot to tell you, too."
    "Deb, I have some bad news. It's Sleaze. He's
dead."
    Her words were met with silence.
    "I know," Munch said. "I still can't
believe it."
    "It's worse than that," Deb said.
    Munch wondered what could be worse than being dead.
    "He was a snitch," Deb said.
    "Where did you hear that?" Munch asked,
feeling a prickly sensation up the back of her neck. Did Deb feel
that his murder was justified? Deserved?
    She was talking about Sleaze, not some stranger.
Besides, Sleaze would never rat. "No way Who told you that?"
    "Oh, you can believe it all right. When's the
last time you saw him?"
    Surely she meant alive. "He came by my work a
couple of days ago."
    "You know about Karen?"
    'Yeah, I heard all about it. Lisa said Sleaze found
her with the needle still stuck in her arm."
    "He changed a lot after that—weirded out on
us."
    "I met his kid," Munch said.
    "I bet she's a cutie."
    "She is. It's gonna be rough for her, being an
orphan and all."
    "Karen's people will take her, I guess, or
Sleaze's. She's too young to know any different." Deb paused to
cough. "How about you? You been good?"
    "You wouldn't believe how good," Munch
said, wrapping the phone cord around her fingers.
    "Roxanne's been staying with me. C'mon, just hop
on a plane and we'll pick you up. I've got my ol' man's truck."
    "Sleaze said you had an ol' man."
    "Forget about Sleaze. Here, Roxannes right here.
She wants to say hi."
    Munch heard more shouting and laughing while the
phone changed hands. She could almost smell the beer, picture the
hazy veil of smoke hovering over the pool tables. "Hey"
Roxanne said.
    "How's it going?"
    "You're coming up?"
    "I'm thinking about it."
    "Don't—" Roxanne was cut off as Deb
grabbed the phone back.
    "This will be great, the three of us together
again. We'll cause some fun."
    "What about your ol' man? Whats his name,
anyhow?"
    "Tux. He's out of town right now, but he should
be back by the weekend. He's a long-haul trucker." Deb laughed
suggestively
    "Sounds good. How is he with Boogie?"
    "Real fine," Deb said. "He takes him
with him sometimes on overnight runs."
    "Really?" Maybe he wasn't an asshole. "That
sounds great. Do they ever get down my way?"
    "He goes all over. I know what you're thinking."
    "I just——"
    "Forget it, he's mine."
    "I've missed you, Deb."
    "Hey Munch?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Call me Deborah now."
    "Sure," Munch said, happy to see that Deb
was obviously growing. "I'll see about coming to visit and call
you back."
    "I can't wait."
    "Me either."
    * * *
    On her way to Inglewood, Munch stopped at the market
and loaded up on supplies. She didn't get to Lisa's until after two.
Juggling the groceries to one arm, she knocked on the frame of the
screen door. Lisa's eyes were red and her face puffy and blotched
when she appeared in the doorway She nodded once to Munch, unlocked
the door, then turned around.
    "This is terrible. How did you hear about it?"
    Munch asked, following her into the dark living room.
    "Two pigs came over this morning with pictures.
They pulled my name from his rap sheet." Lisa showed Munch the
policemen's business cards and then threw them in the trash. "They
wanted me to come down and look at the body" she said.
    "I'm sorry" Munch said. "That had to
be the worst."
    "I didn't go."
    "Why not?"
    "What was I supposed to do with the kids? Take
'em with me?"
    Munch could see her point. "I brought some
stuff." She pushed a bag of groceries into Lisa's hands. "Where
are the kids?"
    "The girls are in their room. The baby's
sleeping."
    Lisa took the bag of groceries into the kitchen.
    Munch sank down to the floor and began sorting the
laundry piled there.
    Lisa popped open a beer and watched without interest.
"They said I needed to make arrangements. You know, like the
funeral