Loren D. Estleman - Valentino 03 - Alive! Read Online Free Page B

Mexicans and Colombians again?”
    “I don’t know. It’s a short hop from San Diego to Tijuana.”
    “But what kind of help could you have given him?”
    “I don’t know. I wish I’d asked, but it was late and—” he’d been calling me all day ; again he’d stopped short. In the light of this conversation, so persistent an appeal for help made Valentino look as bad as he felt for ignoring it. “You said he acted like the house was still his. What did he say that gave you that impression?”
    “Oh, he was just being possessive. Should I call Missing Persons?”
    “They’ll probably just tell you to wait forty-eight hours, and I heard from him just last night.” The abrupt change of subject, and the evasiveness of her answer to his question, made him curious. Far from keeping secrets from each other, he wondered if the Hunters were sharing one.
    “Will you call me if you hear from him again?” she asked.
    “You don’t have to ask, Lorna.”
    “I know, Val. Thank you.” The connection broke.
    He was compelled to call Harriet. Part of the resentment he felt toward Craig Hunter had had nothing to do with Craig’s wasted life. Some small part of him had always wished he’d met Lorna first, and he felt guilty as well as impatient with himself for clinging to that ghost when he was so contented with what he had.
    Harriet didn’t answer. She was probably attending a panel and had her cell turned off. When her voice mail kicked in, he hung up without leaving a message. He’d managed to shift his burden to her for not being available, and wondered if she was sitting with her hunky ex-FBI agent.
    The telephone rang while his hand was still on it. It was Harriet.
    “Did you just try to call?” she asked.
    “Yes. I figured you were busy.”
    “Are you angry about something?”
    He felt a fresh flush of guilt. She had a better right to be jealous of him. He’d never mentioned Lorna to her. “I’m just a little tired.” He told her about yesterday, leaving out Craig Hunter. That route led to questions, lies, and other evasions, and he was a stranger in such country.
    “Oh, Val, you loved that chair.”
    “It’s just a piece of furniture,” he said. “It’s been recovered a couple of times since Bogie and Greenstreet sat in it. I was the custodian for a while. It’s time to let someone else take the responsibility.”
    “Someone like Teddie Goodman?”
    “I’d rather not think about that. If the chair performs up to expectations, I can electrify the marquee and replace the plumbing with PVC pipe.”
    “I thought you said copper was best.”
    “It is, but the joints have to be soldered, and the State of California in its desire to protect its citizens has outlawed all products containing lead.”
    “And you said having a movie star in office would be a good thing.”
    “Well, they didn’t let him bring along his special effects. How’s the convention?”
    “Dull today. The blowhard from Scotland Yard’s debating the know-it-all from NYPD about whose electron microscope is bigger. Jeff and I are going to play hooky and brunch on top of the Space Needle.”
    “Jeff?”
    “Jeff Talbot, the antiques fed. Didn’t I mention his name?”
    “Oh, him.” He wondered if they were staying at the same hotel.
    He’d forgotten she was a detective as well as a scientist. “He’s a happily married man, Val. When he’s not going on about Depression glass he’s talking about his wife, whom I’m sure trusts him.”
    “I trust you. I just miss you.”
    “I miss you, too, but I’ve only been gone a couple of days. It isn’t like I shipped out with the marines.” Elevators dinged in the background. She must have been waiting in the lobby. “There he is. Call you later.”
    The conversation ended before he could point out she’d said that before and hadn’t called before he called her. Which was just as well. They seldom quarreled in person, but long distance was always a challenge.
    He took last