Viv moved closer to stand near a palm tree. She didn't like being triggered, especially not by Rex. He had a way of getting under her skin. She looked up into the night sky. Stars blinked overhead, indifferent and unconcerned about the dead body between the sheets. I am not going to be an accomplice to this outrageous charade perpetuated by Rex Redondo.
Her thoughts expressed themselves in words with one syllable. The. Big. Jerk!
Two other officers gathered around Farrah. They huddled in conversation as she gave them terse instructions. They immediately took off in opposite directions. Then Farrah called out to Rex. "So tell me what else you know." She lifted her pad of paper, thumbing through the pages. "You must have picked up something, with your super mentalist powers and all."
A bland expression came over his face, accompanied by a slight smile and a nod. He glanced up just enough to give Viv the impression that he was seriously considering the officer's request. She felt her anger shift to fascination. He's a constant source of entertainment with his different personas.
And then Rex's phone buzzed. "I have to take this," he explained quietly. Now his voice shifted to a more subdued tone, which was slightly apologetic. Rex stepped toward the casita, out of listening distance.
Officer Farrah gestured to Viv. "Let's talk while he's busy." Viv came closer. "So we meet again," the officer said quietly.
"I remember," Viv answered. She and Farrah had shared an emotionally intimate moment that time in her house. As a line of inquiry, the officer came back the next day to talk to her about her doula agency work. They'd connected right away. More than connected. Viv could tell, just by Farrah's questions, that she'd unearthed some unfinished emotional business underneath her gruff police exterior.
Viv had tried to follow up with the officer the following day by showing up at the police station. Police Chief Waldo Wilson had explained, "My best investigator had to take time off." Viv felt disappointed at the time. But she knew it wasn't her place to ask any more questions.
She'd learned over decades of working with women that a birth could be relived, especially if there was trauma. The very nature of her work brought out stories from women, some long forgotten and pushed aside. And then the stories would resurface unexpectedly. That's how it happened with Susan Farrah that morning in her kitchen.
And now they met again.
"I do remember you, Officer Farrah," Viv said quietly. "I hope you are well since your leave of absence." Viv wondered if she should have mentioned the leave. Well it wasn't exactly a secret. Everyone in the precinct knew because they ended up short-handed.
To her relief, Officer Farrah smiled. "Actually our conversation started a chain of events. I got through it with an excellent counselor, and now I know why I buried my experiences. I'm better. Thanks to you."
"Oh no, it wasn't me." Viv held up her palm as if to wave off Farrah's words. "You had to do the work. I may have been the catalyst, but it often happens that way. Women get to talking, sometimes to perfect strangers, and then a boulder is rolled aside and all kinds of memories and feelings are revealed."
Viv had to admit, looking at the officer, that she seemed different. More centered. Less fragile. She was still someone Viv could easily talk to.
"I did work with the other officer, your substitute from Lily Rock," Viv admitted. "Now she was something else!"
"Janis Jets." Farrah grinned. "She's a handful, right? Very old school and to the point."
"You can say that again," Viv chuckled.
Rex sauntered back from his phone call. He pulled on his earlobe, looking contrite. Viv glared at him, feeling a spark of her former irritation return. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
"Unfortunately I can't stay any longer," Rex announced. "My assistant tells me I'm needed for the early show. Last-minute cancellation. Maybe tomorrow? I can stop at the police station and tell you everything I know about…" He waited expectantly for the officer to fill in a name.
Viv knew right away what he was up to. He's going to have Sutton do a background search and come up with the name of the deceased. Then he'll have information to share and cover up his big fat lie.
"Carmine Nelson," Officer Farrah told them. "He owns and operates that big Fluff and Fold in town. In fact it's called Carmine's Fluff and Fold. Know the place?"
Viv glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice.
Rex smiled as if he'd known all along. Just like my Lucas when he'd get caught doing something naughty. As Farrah glanced at her notebook, Rex gave Viv a quick wink. And then to her annoyance, she felt her heart warm. He'd managed to take away her indignation and anger, replacing it with a tinge of admiration.
Officer Farrah flipped her notepad closed. "I'll see you at the precinct in the morning." Then she turned to Viv. "You can come too. You might know something that could be helpful." She walked toward another officer who waited for her by the door.
Rex nodded toward the path leading away from the casita. "Shall we?" he asked. Offering his elbow, she declined. She kept her arms to her side, not wanting to be touched. To give him credit, he read her signal loud and clear. He shrugged and walked ahead.
"We never got to talk to the HOA. And then the dead body," Viv said, a note of accusation in her voice. "How is it we started the evening one way and it turned in an entirely different direction?"
"The second dead body in our short time together," Rex admitted. "Surely a sign that we're meant to get involved, don't you think?"
"I am not a detective," she said, dismissing his idea. "Let's talk about something else. How about those beautiful sheets. Weren't they something?"
"Actually I had a vision about that bed before we even walked over," he said.
Viv shook her head. "No visions. Not right now. I'm pretty disgusted with you and your lies. You didn't even know the victim's name. But I bet Sutton is already on the case."
He raised both hands in surrender. "Well I did manage to send a text as we were saying goodbye. Sutton will come up with everything we need to know about the dead guy, maybe more than the cops, what with her connections."
Viv felt impatient. She didn't want to hear any more of his bright ideas. Even the talk about the sheets went back to his vision. Hoping to make her irritation go away, she looked up at the full moon, inhaling deeply.
As they strolled back in silence, Viv’s previous surge of anger waned. No use feeling upset with Rex Redondo. It's not like he'll ever change, she concluded.
They rounded the corner and walked half a block to stand in her driveway. He spoke again.
"Why don't we talk about my big lie and the new case tomorrow over our morning coffee? I'll bring Kevin and he can play with Miss Kitty."
Viv gulped. She wasn't actually that mad, once he admitted what he'd done. In fact she felt a glimmer of excitement. She did have fun that last time they worked together. Maybe fun wasn't the right word. But it hadn't been dull, that's for sure.
Anyone can complain at a homeowner's association meeting, she reminded herself. But how many people can get involved in a murder investigation not just once, but a second time?
A slight smile came to the corner of her mouth. He's so persuasive. "I'll talk to Miss Kitty and let you know. She's not exactly a fan of Kevin's exuberant behavior." Using the cat to express her feelings had become a habit. Especially when it came to Rex. Viv wasn't ready to share her feelings directly with him. He had a certain power over her that made her feel vulnerable. No use giving him more ammunition.
"Understood," he said gravely. "I realize Kevin is a bit over the top. Unconventional. He's playful and full of enthusiastic affection. I get it. And I'll get him to do better. But don't forget that dog is loyal." He didn't wait for her reply. "See you tomorrow. Bright and early. Sleep tight, next-door neighbor."
She watched as he sauntered to his house, hands in pockets. Then she heard a whistle drift past in the dry desert air. She recognized the tune immediately: "The Best is Yet to Come," from Frank Sinatra's Nothing But the Best album. Viv knew those old '50s and '60s hits. She favored the classic tunes.
She watched as Rex disappeared through his front door.