I awakened several times in a toss-turn night, fought back to sleep until seven, then jogged the beach. Though it was Saturday, a day off rotation, Harry and I had decided to brace Ambrose Poll this afternoon. We’d also elected to take Willow along.
I ran an almost-deserted beach, most vacationers waiting until the sun is high to wander from their rentals. I’d always found it strange, since the beach was cooler and more amenable in the early hours. I passed a few die-hard surf anglers, long rods tucked into sand spikes, plus the occasional beachwalkers, walking slow and looking for shells. The Alabama coastline is known for sugar-white sand, not shells. Specimens cast aside on Sanibel Island are keepers here, just being whole is noteworthy. Entire families will oooh and aaah at an unbroken sand dollar the size of a quarter.
I came inside and ate a couple of sausage biscuits at the counter, then swept the sand out the door, made a grocery run, did two loads of laundry, and greased the squeak from the bathroom door. I was folding towels and counting the hours until I met Harry and Willow for the trek to Ambrose Poll’s place. Hearing a crunch of shells, I glanced through the curtain and saw a silver Audi pulling into my drive. I heard the door open, but couldn’t see who exited. Footsteps climbed the stairs.
I opened the door to DeeDee Danbury, knuckles poised in mid-knock. I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore a sleeveless blue denim work shirt tucked into multi-pocketed khaki shorts with a webbed belt. Her hair was bundled in a neat ponytail and tipped-back sunglasses rode the crown of her head. A pair of compact field glasses hung around her neck.
“It’s OK,” I said, “I’ll let you closer than that.”
A flash of puzzlement, then she looked down. “Oh, the binocs. I wear them so much I forget they’re on. Some girls probably say that about diamonds, but what the hell.”
I waved her to enter and she looked around at my decor of posters and driftwood. The furniture came in a box from Sweden and had looked better in the catalog, but it was comfortable.
“Helluva place, pogobo,” she said. “You get a commission on the big solves, or what?”
“It’s an inheritance, basically,” I said. “What brings you here, Ms Danbury?”
She seemed not to have heard, wandered to the deck doors and looked out. Without the TV make-up, designer clothes, and camera-bred intensity, she looked relatively human. Danbury lifted the binoculars to her eyes and scanned the beach.
“If I had a view like this,” she said, “I’d never make it to work.”
“The binoculars part of journalism? Or window peeping?”
The glasses dropped to her chest. “Birdwatching. It’s how I relax.”
It didn’t seem appropriate; I’d have figured her for collecting poisonous plant species. She said, “I was out this morning on the inland side, then thought I’d come over here, see what’s in the air.”
My hand swept toward the beach. “Pelicans, gulls, sandpipers, herons, now and then a frigate bird…”
“I mean like what’s up between us. After that little tussle at the morgue the other day.”
“I explained myself to the chief. I don’t have to explain anything to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“I didn’t tattle to management, Ryder. All part of a day’s work is what I figure. Borg can be an asshole sometimes. No, all of the time. If it means anything, I told management there was another side to the story.”
“I don’t need your help, Ms Danbury.”
She walked toward the living room. “I found it curious the sound on Borg’s camera cut out when he might have been talking, but was recording when you were explaining the various proctological possibilities of a videocam.”
“Is that what I did?”
“It was wonderfully colorful.”
“What really brings you here, Ms Danbury?”
She nodded at the couch. “Mind if I sit?” Without waiting for my response, she sat, settled in comfortably. “I know how you work, you and Nautilus. I’ve studied it.”
“How about blessing me with a synopsis, Ms Danbury?”
She leaned back and crossed her legs. The economical knees counterbalanced the extravagant calves. “You guys have selective gravity or something. The strange cases pop up, look around until they see you, then run over and jump in your laps. Half the time you don’t seem to know what you’re doing, then Bang-Hallelujah! The case is cleared, your faces are in the paper, and everyone’s running up to bask in your sunshine.”
“Maybe it’s just luck.”
“Luck is dice coming up hot when you need it. They could just as easily sit cold. It’s statistics. Statistically, you and Nautilus are full-time hotties when it comes to crazies. Magnets for freaks.”
“I disagree. Either way, I’m not sure how it affects you.”
“I think there’s a story cooking here. Give me a peek in the kitchen. It’ll be a trade. I’ll tell you how I know what little I know, keep filling you in as I learn more. I’m going to learn more; you know I will. It’s what I do.”
“It’s not my place to keep you informed of anything, Ms Danbury.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I said I researched you and Nautilus? I concentrated on you. Nothing you’ve done in the department has been typical. You cut your own path, usually through the backcountry. I remember the Adrian case, how they shut the door in your face, so you kicked in the wall. Don’t go by-the-book on me now, Ryder. Give me a taste of what’s happening. I’ll keep you up on what comes my way. What do you say to that?”
“No comment.”
She started to speak, then shook her head slowly. She stood and walked to the door, pulled it open. She stepped toward the stoop, but stopped and turned. Danbury lifted the binoculars, reversing them to study me through the front lenses rather than the eyepieces.
“Isn’t that interesting,” she said. “I could have sworn you were a lot bigger.”