Chapter 14

I slept in the next morning. I'd intended to get right on it, to get out and about checking out Larry's address book, but the tedium of the search, and the emotional strain of the last few days, had caught up with me. When the alarm went off I staggered out of bed, shut it off, and staggered back to bed. When I woke up again just after 10, I could barely remember that I'd been awake three hours before.

The house was empty when I got up – I could feel it. I have never understood how it's possible, but it is possible – at least some of the time – to discern whether a house has people in it. This one didn't, except for me. There weren't any notes in any of the places where we habitually leave them, so I figured Cecelia was out in the weight shed, and Darlia of course was at school, since it was Thursday. It was almost time for her Christmas vacation – I'm happy that Calvin Academy doesn't opt for the PC term "winter break" – and tomorrow would be her last day of school until January.

It was still morning and I don't eat breakfast, more out of habit now than any actual disinclination, but I did rummage around and decide to toast a bagel. While it was browning I dug out the cream cheese, and when the bagel popped up I smeared the cheese on liberally. All I had on was a pair of shorts – all my shorts are cutoff jeans that have gotten too worn to wear – and so I didn't wander out to the shed. I stood in the dining room, at the bay window, looking out at the day. It was cloudy again, but when I put my hand on the glass it seemed warmer than it had been. Of course a hand on the glass isn't a precise meteorological instrument, but I've learned that all the training and all the computer models in the world don't give TV forecasters any better understanding of how today will go than I can get with my unsophisticated methods.

I finished the half of the bagel I had in my hand and went back for the other half, which I'd left sitting on the counter by the sink. As I ate it I stood there, leaning against the counter. It was pleasant in the kitchen, with the heat high enough that I didn't have to layer up to be warm. There are those who insist that we ought to turn our thermostats down, but I'm not one of them. It's not that I want to destroy the world I live in – no one, unless he's insane, wants to do that – but rather that there's no real point in it. If I have to wear more clothes and eat more food to stay warm because I've got the house cold, am I really saving anything? I can't see that I am. It would be nice if we could live without affecting the environment, but the closest we could ever come to that would be an existence so primitive that the well-fed, well-clothed people who talk the loudest about being green would be the first to reject the alternative. Even animals affect the environment they live in – and they're not nearly as healthy and happy as the average American is ... or at least could be, if he'd focus on what counts instead of on accumulating more and "better" toys.

I shook off my cynicism. I love my country but sometimes I wonder about its people. But I can't change the world, so I don't worry much about it; I just go on about my business of being the best me I can be, and doing what I can to improve my little corner of the world. I finished my bagel and went back into the bedroom to get dressed.

Marla was in the office when I got there. If she's got an irregular schedule so do I; coming in near noon wasn't any stranger than her coming in on Thursday, after missing the rest of the week.

"Hey, Darv," she said when I walked in. "How's the world?"

"It's still what it is, Marla. Got a question for you: Have you heard about what's been going on with me?"

She put down the pen and paper she'd been working with – it looked like she'd been doing figures – and looked at me. "No – is it bad news?"

"Yeah. A friend of mine got killed Friday, or maybe Thursday night. The cops think it was suicide but it wasn't, and I'm investigating it."

"No client and no fee, right?"

"Yeah."

She took a deep breath, looking away from me for a moment. When she looked back I could see compassion in her face. "I know what you've taught me, Darv – 'I'm sorry' just isn't enough. I know that for myself now, but you're the one who helped me see it. But I am sorry."

"I know you are, Marla. I guess you're a bit more than just a secretary..."

"As far as I'm concerned, we're friends." She got up out of her chair and gave me a hug, and then a gentle kiss on the cheek. "And you needed that."

I put my hand on her shoulder for a moment, feeling the knob of it under her fuzzy sweater. "Yeah, probably I did. Anyway, you're liable to see a lot less of me than usual, 'cause I'm not gonna let this thing rest."

"Darv, will you take some advice from a secretary?"

I looked at her. "I'll take advice from anyone, though I don't promise to follow it."

"Okay ... My advice is don't let this thing ride you. I know you – when you call someone a friend, you take it seriously. But if you're not careful this could destroy you, it could ruin you. I don't want to see you go down in flames."

"That's not gonna happen, Marla."

She was suddenly fierce. "It better not, Darvin." I couldn't remember the last time she'd used my entire first name; she's always diminutive with it. "I am not going to stand by and watch you fall apart over this."

I put my hand on her shoulder again, and walked into my office.

Once behind my door, with my coat on the fridge and my hat on its table, I stood at the window and wiped my eyes. It wasn't allergy season and I don't have allergies anyway, but my eyes seemed to be a bit misty. Sometimes finding out how people care about you, when you didn't realize they did or how much, can do that to you – at least that's the way it is with me. I looked out the window at the Sandia Mountains for a few minutes, getting myself back together. In the cloudy winter light their ragged face seemed especially barren, nothing but raw rock thrusting up from the plain. The clouds were just barely above the Crest, and didn't provide enough contrast for me to see the transmission towers and trees that stood on the edge of the drop. The mountains in that light looked as though they'd come straight out of the creation, before God commanded vegetation to arise and clothe the earth.