“You see him lately?”
“A couple months ago. He’s been doing a lot of traveling, so we don’t manage to get together as often as we used to. Fuck it, Flynn.” Brad flung an arm around Flynn’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you assholes.”
“Same goes. You going to tell me what you thought of Malory?”
“Classy, intellectual, and very, very hot—despite her dubious taste in men.”
Flynn tapped the heels of his ancient tennis shoes against the stone of the wall. “I’m about half crazy about her.”
“Serious crazy, or let’s mambo crazy?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it yet.” He studied the house, and the quarter slice of moon that drifted over it. “I’m hoping it’s door number two, because I’d just as soon not get serious crazy at this point.”
“Lily was a social-climbing opportunist with a great rack.”
“Jesus, Vane.” He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or give his friend a hard shove off the seven-foot wall. So he did neither and only brooded instead. “I was in love with her. I was going to marry her.”
“Now you’re not and you didn’t. Lucky break for you. She wasn’t worthy, Flynn.”
Flynn shifted. He couldn’t see Brad’s eyes clearly. Their color blended into the night. “Worthy of what?”
“Of you.”
“That’s a hell of a thing to say.”
“You’ll feel better about the whole thing once you admit I’m right. Now back to current affairs. I liked her—your Malory—if you’re keeping score.”
“Even though you think she’s whacked.”
Boggy ground, Brad mused, even when you were walking it with a friend. “I think she’s found herself in extraordinary circumstances and she’s caught up in the mystique. Why wouldn’t she be?”
Flynn had to smile. “That’s just a diplomatic, bullshit way of saying she’s whacked.”
“You once punched me in the face for saying Joley Ridenbecker had beaver teeth. I’m not heading meetings on Monday with a black eye.”
“See, you are a suit. If I admit that Joley did indeed have teeth like a beaver, will you believe me if I tell you I’ve never known anyone with less of a whack quotient than Malory Price?”
“Okay, I’ll take your word. And I’ll admit the whole thing about the paintings is intriguing.” Brad gestured with the beer, then drank again. “I’d like to get a look at the one in there myself.”
“We can go up, knock on the door.”
“In the daylight,” Brad decided. “When we haven’t been drinking.”
“Probably better.”
“Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me more about this Zoe?”
“Haven’t known her long, but I did some background checking. On her and Mal. Just in case Dana was getting sucked into some weird-ass scam. She moved to the Valley three years ago, with her kid.”
“Husband?”
“Nope. Single parent. Looks like a good one to me. I met the kid. He’s bright, normal, appealing. She worked at Hair Today, girly hair place on Market. Word is she’s good at her profession, personable with customers, reliable. Got canned the same time Malory did, and around the same time they cut Dana’s hours at the library to the bone. Another weird coincidence. She bought this little cardboard box of a house when she moved here. Apparently she’s done most of the fixing-up work herself.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not that I know of. She . . . wait a minute. You ask two questions. Husband, boyfriend. My razor-sharp reporter’s instinct leads me to the conclusion that you’re thinking of the mambo.”
“Or something. I should get back. I’ve got a hell of a lot to do in the next couple of days. But there’s this one thing.” Brad took another pull on the bottle. “How the hell are we going to get off this wall?”