Tessa and I bought a few more cups of Peruvian coffee on the way to Balboa Park and then parked in the lot beside the Alcazar Garden to wait for Calvin. We were a little early, so we took a walk through the nearby Palm Canyon, and on the way Tessa informed me that Balboa Park is the largest urban cultural park in the U.S. “There are more than a dozen museums and performing arts venues here, as well as the San Diego Zoo.”
She seemed unusually awake and perky today, and I wondered if maybe she was under the weather. I’d never thought I would put the words Tessa and perky together in the same sentence, unless the word despises appeared between them. I decided to try a little conversation, see how she responded.
“You know, Raven.” I pointed to her freshly touched-up black fingernail polish. “I like that color on you. I didn’t used to like black so much, but I think it’s growing on me.”
“Thanks, but black isn’t a color. It’s the absence of all color.”
“Oh, really? Well, I’ve got you now. Look in a box of crayons.
Black is definitely a color. It says so right on the crayon.”
“Wow, on a crayon. You know what? I think you’re right, Patrick.
I guess black’s a color after all.” There was sarcasm in her voice, but it was light. Decaffeinated derision. “I mean, despite what the laws of physics say about black not reflecting light waves, if a box of crayons says black is a color, we should probably revise our understanding of how light travels through space.” Well, I guess she was feeling all right after all. Both perky and sardonic. A killer combination.
As I was thinking about how I might defend Crayola, a woman with a stroller approached, and I put my hand gently on Tessa’s arm to guide her off the sidewalk, but as soon as I touched her arm, she grimaced and ducked away.
“Sorry. Are you OK?” After I touched her I realized I’d grabbed the same arm Sevren Adkins, the serial killer who called himself the Illusionist, had sliced last fall. But that scar was pretty much healed by now. That must be where the tattoo is. I didn’t mention the tattoo though. I wanted to give her the chance to tell me herself.
“Did I hurt your scar?”
“I’m OK, no, you didn’t do anything, really. It’s just… I must have slept on my arm wrong or something. That’s all.”
She quickly changed the subject and asked what had happened with the case last night, and I couldn’t think of any good reason to invite her to peer over the police line at someone else’s pain, so instead of telling her about Austin Hunter’s death and Cassandra’s near drowning, I simply told her that Cassandra was OK and that we had a suspect in custody related to her abduction.
“What about the arsonist?” she asked.
“He was stopped by the police,” I said. “He won’t be starting fires anytime soon.”
“So, is your case over then? Are we gonna be able to hang out today?”
“We’ll have to see.” Her flight to Denver didn’t leave until 2:26 p.m. I wanted to wait as long as possible before telling her I was sending her home.
“So I never asked you,” I said. “How was your drive with Lien-hua yesterday? Did she pull out all the stops or drive like a mor-tal?”
“She drove pretty much like she did when she took me back to the hotel Monday night. Pretty normal.” And then, just as I took a sip of coffee, Tessa asked, “So, what’s up with you two, anyway?”
“What do you mean, what’s up?”
“C’mon. Don’t even act all innocent. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Besides, she was the first person you thought to call after that guy jumped in front of the trolley and you needed someone to come get me. What’s the deal with you two?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s the deal-”
“Yeah, right. You so stink at lying. Besides, whenever people say
‘nothing,’ it’s always something, but they’re just afraid of admitting it.”
“I’m not afraid of admitting anything-”
“So what’s up then?”
Perhaps a slightly different approach. “All right. I can’t tell you how she feels about me, but I enjoy working with her, I respect her, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better-”
“You think about her all the time, when you’re alone with her, you feel more alive than any other time in your life, whenever she talks to you, your pulse races and-”
“OK, OK. That’s enough. So, maybe it might be something, but it’s not really anything.”
We chose a path leading back to the parking lot. “Well, are you seeing her? And don’t be, like, ‘We’ve been working together a lot lately,’ or something, because that’s totally different. Besides, she already tried that on me.”
“What? You talked to her about this? You didn’t really, did you?
You’re just saying that, right?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” she said evasively. “But that’s not the point.
Now I’m talking to you, and you’re avoiding my question.”
Part of me wished that Lien-hua were here so I could make sure we were on the same page with anything I said. On the other hand, I was glad she wasn’t hearing any of this. “Tessa, maybe we could discuss this later?” She paused and turned so that she was directly facing me. “Naw.
Now’s good.”
Since Christie’s death, Tessa and I had never really talked about the idea of me dating again. And since my relationship with Lien-hua hadn’t progressed to the point where it seemed like an issue, I’d never brought it up.
“So,” Tessa persisted. “Are you seeing her? And please don’t say
‘sort of.’ Like you’re ‘sort of’ seeing her.”
“What’s wrong with saying ‘sort of’?”
“It’s a cop-out. Very lame. For people who are afraid to commit.”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
“Well, it’s like this, Tessa… you see… it’s… it’s complicated.”
“It’s complicated?” She slung her hands to her hips. “A question that requires a yes or no answer is too complicated for you, Dr.
Bowers? Are you seeing Agent Jiang: yes or no?”
Just then my phone rang, and Tessa stared at my pocket. “You have got to be kidding me. You dialed that yourself, somehow, didn’t you? Pressed a redial button or something?”
“I’m good,” I said. “But I’m not that good.”
I checked to see who it was. Lien-hua.
“So, who is it?” Tessa peeked at my phone’s screen. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“I think I need to take this, OK?”
Tessa folded her arms, cocked her head in a teenage way, and glared.
“Hi, Lien-hua.” As I spoke, I kept the phone cradled close to my ear so Tessa couldn’t listen in.
“Pat, we need you back at the station.”
“What’s up?”
“The suspect won’t talk to the police, but asked to talk to me.
By name.” I knew Tessa was good at overhearing conversations so I stepped away and lowered my voice. As far as I could remember, no one had mentioned Lien-hua’s name while we were in the suspect’s presence at the warehouse. “How did he know who you are?”
“We’re not sure. Margaret’s talking with his lawyers now.
Ralph’s meeting with her in a few minutes. They want you here by noon.”
“Well, I can’t be there by then. I need to…” I could see Tessa straining to listen in. I rephrased what I was about to say just in case she heard me. “I need to take care of a few things. I can’t get there until one at the earliest.”
“OK. I’ll call you if I find out more.”
“OK. See ya soon.”
As I hung up, Tessa asked suspiciously, “What was all that about?”
The case had just become a little more complex, but I couldn’t get into all of it with Tessa. “I’m afraid this investigation is going to eat up some of my time today. I won’t be able to leave until tomorrow afternoon at least.”
Her eyebrows awoke. “But I thought we were staying until Friday, right?”
“That was the plan.” Before you tackle that conversation, finish up this one. “Anyway, where were we? Oh yes. I was just about to make you promise not to talk to Agent Jiang about all this are-we-seeing-each-other stuff.”
“No, you were just about to tell me if you’re seeing her. But I’ll make you a promise if you give me a straight answer.”
I collected my thoughts. “Tessa, listen, how about this: if Agent Jiang and I ever decide to move from something that’s nothing to anything that might be more than sort of something, I’ll let you know.”
“You didn’t think I followed that, but I did.”
“I believe you. Now, promise.” “I promise.”
“You promise what?”
She sighed, took a deep breath, and said, “I promise not to tell Agent Jiang how much you like her and how badly you want to start seeing her. How’s that?”
I rubbed my forehead as a cab pulled up and a tall, lean gentle-man unfolded himself from the backseat. He handed some bills to the driver and turned to face us.
Dr. Calvin Werjonic had arrived.