On the way back to town, Rex asked, "Do you remember what specific role Joey and Dean played on the HOA? Was it mentioned that night or did everything get lost once the cops showed up?"
"I think their job titles are on the monthly newsletter. I've looked before. There are names but no contact information, and the job titles sound kinda fake. Plus they pump out the same letter every time. All they change is the date at the top. There's the typical information. Like the hours of trash pickup and reminders about bagging your pet's waste."
"I delete the notices without reading them," Rex admitted.
"I keep the latest one in my inbox. Just in case I need to call the office about something."
"Do they pick up?"
"I have to leave a message most of the time."
"Our HOA is kinda odd. For example, why would Joey Baker have a house that's not in our community? I thought that was one of the rules to be on the board."
"He could own a house at the Desert Tortoise and be renting it out," Viv suggested.
"I suppose." Rex pulled into a parking space in front of Just Desserts. He came around the SUV to open Viv's door, and she stepped out onto the pavement. He is kind of old-fashioned, she admitted to herself. I like the door being opened.
Sitting at the table, they ordered. While they waited for their food, Viv found her thoughts returning to Carmine's wake. I haven't told Rex about the photograph. She cleared her throat. "There's something I found on the piano at the wake," she began. But then the waiter arrived.
Viv lost her train of thought. She picked up her fork to stab a piece of chicken, lifting it from a mound of lettuce. Rex held the overstuffed pastrami sandwich to his mouth. They ate in companionable silence. Once he'd finished, he asked, "How was your salad?"
"Pretty good." She shoved a few lettuce leaves around to make it look like she'd eaten more. The problem was she kept glancing at his face while he chewed. Nothing wrong there. Then she'd forgotten she was hungry.
She'd even spent some time inspecting his hands, the tapered fingers. When he caught her staring she looked away, but not before a flood of heat spread over her chest. That could be a hot flash, she told herself. Or could it be something else?
Since she'd reached middle age, she had trouble distinguishing the messages from her body. Feeling warm all the time and then moving to the desert with the dry hot climate didn't help. Sometimes the heat led to breathlessness and a sense of panic. She'd apply ice bags at night if she woke up suddenly. Place them on her chest just to calm her nervous system. All of these unfamiliar body experiences had confused her.
She had friends who took antianxiety medication prescribed by their doctors. But Viv didn't want to go that route. She liked to think that the body knew things that maybe she wasn't aware of. And that the heat and sudden flashes were a new normal, caused by fluctuating hormones and the climate. Just changes in temperature, she told herself. Nothing to be alarmed about.
Then she made an odd connection. Paying attention to the clues from her body wasn't that different than paying attention to other clues. Like in a murder investigation, for instance. Line them up and after a while a conclusion can be drawn.
"Why the smile?” Rex asked, putting his wallet back into his pocket.
"I'm thinking about my body," she said.
"Oh, I'm interested. Do tell." He grinned at her, a playful sound to his voice.
"Do you ever wonder? I mean, if your body could talk, what it would tell you?"
"I know what my body is telling me most of the time." He paused for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but then asked her, "What's your body telling you right now?"
"Maybe that I'm pushing aside a lot of my feelings." She smiled at him. "Emotions are so inconvenient, don't you think?"
"Not at all," Rex exclaimed. "In fact, I always want to know what you're feeling. I'm not one bit afraid of your emotions."
"You surprise me. In a good way." She felt genuinely pleased at his response. "Should we leave now? The tables are filling up and they most likely want to seat more paying customers."
Walking toward the exit, Viv heard Rex's phone ping. He read his screen, continuing to walk. He stopped at the curb. "So our pal Joey? Sutton's on the stakeout. He's been picked up by another guy. She'll keep us posted."
He opened the SUV's door for Viv, closing it as soon as she settled into the seat.
As they drove, Viv's thoughts returned to the HOA meeting. She thought about the men sitting around the table. There were five plaques with names but only four men in attendance: Frank Salucci, Dean Marcella, Sammy Daniels, and Peter Langford. Joey Baker was the one missing. They'd tracked down his place of work and maybe his house.
"What about Peter Langford?" she asked suddenly. "We haven't found out where he lives."
Rex made a left turn into their neighborhood.
“We haven't followed up on him yet," Viv repeated.
The entrance gate lifted as Rex drove through. "What made you think of him?"
"I'm wondering if he was at the wake and if maybe he's the guy who picked up Joey. It's a big assumption, a long hunch…"
Rex pulled into his garage, shutting off the car. Kevin's bark sounded from inside. "Let me check on Kev and I'll get back with you. Any chance I could have a swim in your pool later? That would help my…" He pointed to his knee. "It's still bothering me after that catapult over the counter."
"Swimming is very therapeutic," Viv said. She felt a tingle travel up her spine. Stop it, she told her body. He's just a neighbor who wants to use the pool. No big deal. Behave yourself.
Viv found herself humming on the way to her house. What is that tune? She hummed the next line. A Frank Sinatra song: “The Best is Yet to Come.” Then she blushed. Rex was singing that just the other night.
Obviously meant for someone a lot younger, she told herself firmly.