Alex knew of a nearby state park so we drove there. But as soon as we arrived, it started to rain. We abandoned our sight-seeing plans and drove to the shopping mall we’d passed on the highway. It was old and rundown and half the storefronts were empty, but it was warm and dry and we had an hour to kill. I dragged Alex toward the mall’s only clothing store, a Ross Dress For Less.
He stopped at the entrance with his hands in his pockets. “I hate shopping.”
“So did my husband. That didn’t mean he didn’t have to come. C’mon, fake boyfriend. You need a wardrobe redo.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but he followed me inside.
I took him to outerwear first. “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but green is not your color.” I handed him a gray fleece and a blue shirt-jacket and we moved onto pants. I held up a pair of khakis. “Nothing says I’m an innocent suburban dad and definitely not a drug dealer more than these.”
“No,” Alex said.
“You don’t have to get the tan,” I said and returned the khakis to the rack. “They have other colors. How about gray?”
Alex nodded reluctantly.
I pulled two more pairs of pants off the rack and a few pairs of designer jeans and sent him into the dressing room. He eventually emerged wearing his own clothes and holding the gray pants and the blue shirt-jacket.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Yes. Are we done?”
“Almost.” I led him into the leather goods section. “You need a wallet.”
“Why do I need a wallet?”
“Because only drug dealers walk around carrying a wad of cash wrapped in a rubber band.”
I handed Alex a black leather billfold and he attempted to stuff it into the front pocket of his jeans.
“Back pocket,” I said.
“That’s just asking to be pickpocketed.”
“Every man I know keeps their wallet in their back pocket.”
Alex rolled his eyes but stuck the wallet into his back pocket. “This isn’t even comfortable.”
I lifted my leg and pointed to my high-heeled shoe. “You think these are comfortable? Suck it up, buttercup.”
Alex added the wallet to his pile. “Are we done now?” he whined.
“Yes. And the best part is we’re in Oregon, so I just saved you nine and a half percent sales tax.”
Even with the shopping excursion and dropping off the rental car we still made it back to the airport with plenty of time to spare. The security line at the Coos Bay Airport was much shorter than any security line I’d ever waited in at LAX. We flew from Coos Bay to San Francisco on a small commuter jet, then changed to a much larger plane for our connecting flight to LA. By the time I finally made it back to Santa Veneta that evening, MJ’s basketball game was half over. But he seemed happy to see me anyway. I’d promised him I’d be there if I could.
“You’re leaving again?” Aunt Maddy said when she came down to the kitchen the next morning and found me dressed in a suit.
“Just for the day,” I said. “I’ll be home for dinner.”
At least that was the plan. But Agent Diaz called and said he needed to debrief me and Alex and the only time he could meet with us was that night. This time we rendezvoused in the parking lot of a big box hardware store.
“What do you think?” I asked Agent Diaz after I’d told him everything I could remember. “Can you build a case?”
“On what?” Agent Diaz said. “You went to a warehouse and looked at a painting. That’s not a crime.”
“What about the money?” I said. “Alex paid in cash.”
Agent Diaz shook his head. “Settle in, Grace. This may take a while.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. It was only the first week and I was already exhausted.
“Rent a house here,” Agent Diaz said. “At least you won’t have the commute. That’ll make it easier.”
I nodded. “How long of a lease should I get?”
“At least six months.”
“Six months!”
Agent Diaz turned to Alex. “Go with her to look since you’ll be staying there too.”