Thirty

“Come with me,” I said to Roz on my way to answer the bell. We hadn’t finished our chat, and it never hurts to have a karate expert tag along.

Cal was idling on the stoop, trading August heat tales with the locksmith.

I flashed on the chorus of Dee’s song “For Tonight.”

“For tonight, for a while, I want you.”

Last night I had practically ached to touch him, from the moment he’d walked onstage, eyes downcast, from the moment he’d thumbed his first note.

But not tonight. Definitely not for a string of nights.

“I found him,” Cal said.

It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. His voice sounded funny.

“Davey?”

“Davey.”

“Terrific. Wonderful. Where? Come on in and tell me the whole story. I’ll get you a drink, uh, a soft drink. Orange juice.”

“No. I, uh, I’d rather not.”

“Well, where is he?”

“We have to go there.”

“Cal? Are you okay?”

“We have to go there,” he repeated, his tone harsh, almost angry. He stared at the steps. I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Now?”

“Yeah. Now would be good.”

One look at the set of Cal’s jaw, and I knew I’d get no further with questions. “Okay, be like that,” I said. “Roz, have you ever considered a future as a groupie?”

“That’s not a future, that’s a past.”

“Dress weird,” I said. “Hell, dress normally. And get over to the Four Winds Hotel. Seventh floor, some of them may still be on the eighth, but the seventh’s your best bet. Tell anybody who asks that you’re with Dee Willis’s band. The drummer’s name is Freddie. Ron’s the lead guitar. I don’t know the keyboard man. He seems to evaporate into thin air every time I come near. Hal Grady’s the road manager.”

“Yeah. Ron and Freddie and Hal. Which one am I interested in?”

“None of the above. Get tight with a camp follower named Mimi. Looks sixteen. Dyed blonde curly hair.”

“Oooh,” said Roz, “long hair. I get it. I’m your undercover agent.”

I blew out a deep breath. “Keep it that way, Roz,” I said. “I want to know everything about this girl—who she talks to, who she sleeps with, whether she deals, what she deals, whether she uses, what she uses. I want you to be her new best friend.”

“And if some of the boys come on to me?”

“That’s your business. Just make sure you’re with Mimi most of the time.”

“I’ll be great,” Roz promised. “I know the exact outfit. I’ll make up for the tube and the locks—”

“Whoa, Roz. Don’t go in like a sledgehammer, okay? Be subtle. It could be dangerous.”

“If she’s the one messed up the kitchen floor,” Roz said, peeling off her rubber gloves, “it could be fucking dangerous for her.”