Goodnight, Irene
punishment, but this is like volunteering for the Spanish Inquisition. How can my own sister have such low self-esteem? I’m calling her. I’m calling her right now.”
    “Hold it, Irene. Barbara’s not a child. Your older sister, as I recall. She can see anybody she wants to.”
    “It won’t work. God, he is
such
a user! She’ll mother him.”
    He didn’t say anything.
    “You’re right,” I said, calming down a little. “You’re right. I’ve got to stay out of it.”
    “Well, actually, what I had in mind was a little different. I need you to be sympathetic to her. We’ve got to find out what, if anything, would make someone want to kill Kenny.”
    “You’d better arrest me.”
    “You know what I mean. From what I can tell at this point, all three of you may be targets. Kenny must be pretty sure he’s a target, or he wouldn’t have left his car here. He may not have wanted to leave it in an unfamiliar neighborhood, or maybe he was trying to draw attention to you, I don’t know. Anyway, I’m going to have it towed in, so you should have some satisfaction.”
    I must admit it cheered me to imagine Kenny’s face when he found his most prized possession missing.
    “Meanwhile,” Frank went on, “for obvious reasons, I don’t think you should stay here. At least not until we get a better handle on things. They probably won’t come around here again until they’re sure cops aren’t going to keep dropping by, but you need to watch your back. Anybody you can stay with?”
    I thought about it. It wasn’t a problem of being willing to leave — I wasn’t really feeling comfortable in the house, and even the nuisance of living away from it for a few days didn’t seem like much compared to being on edge in my own home. Barbara’s house was out of the question. There was a limit to what I could stand in the way of watching her sacrifice herself to Kenny.
    “Let me try Lydia Ames. We’ve been friends since grade school.”
    I called Lydia, and angel that she is, when I explained what had happened, she urged me to bring Cody along.
    I lured Cody out of hiding with a piece of chicken, then felt very mean as I stuffed him into the cat carrier. He yowled his protests while I packed a few things. Frank went around latching my remaining windows. I gave Lydia’s number to Frank, and he gave me his work and home numbers.
    “I’ll follow you over there,” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re not tailed.”
    I didn’t object. I stuffed the cat carrier and my other belongings into the front seat of my Karmann Ghia.
    “I can’t believe you still have this car,” Frank said.
    I smiled at that and climbed into my faded-blue, ’71 ragtop. The odometer had flipped more times than a circus acrobat, and the defroster didn’t work right, but the old car was still reliable transportation.
     
     
    T WENTY MINUTES LATER we were on the other side of town, in front of Lydia’s place. Frank got out of his car and helped me carry Cody up to the door. I looked at his tired face and realized that he probably still had to go in and write up reports tonight.
    I took his hand. “Thanks, Frank. Thanks for — well, thanks for lots of things.”
    “Goodnight, Irene. I’ve been thinking about getting back in touch with you again, just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”
    We shook hands awkwardly, then he walked back to his car. He stood waiting for me to get safely inside. I rang the bell, then waved good-bye to him as Lydia let me in.
     
5
     
    L YDIA WAS SOLICITOUS in the extreme. I was all for it at that point. After letting Cody out of his carrier to slink around exploring his new environs, she asked me if I was hungry. It dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten all day, and that I was quite hungry indeed. She sat me down at her kitchen counter and mixed a nice stiff Myers’s and OJ for me, then set about warming up some homemade lasagna, making garlic bread and tossing a salad. I offered to
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