The Trade

“Oh. Okay, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Matt went into the small spare bedroom. Of course she was dating, he should have expected that. But right now she was here, with him. That was something. He opened the closet, pulled out skis and poles, tennis racquets, a couple of baseball bats and mitts, and threw them on the bed so that he could get at the shelves of old winter clothes, some of it his, some of it Ginn had left behind when she moved out. Her sweats were small enough for the girls to wear, Hasan, too, come to that. He was so slight he was hardly there. A tough little bastard, though, a fighter. Matt cleared a shelf, dumped the clothes into a black canvas bag.

Then he felt Ginn behind him. Matt breathed in the scent she always wore, maybe from the giant bottle he’d put in her stocking last Christmas with a card from Barney…Not last Christmas. Last Christmas was the first without her in five years. Last Christmas he’d skied in Davos and fucked his brains out with some Italian girl whose name he didn’t even remember.

“I raided the refrigerator. You haven’t got much, just some cheese and bread and some apples. I put in water as well.” Ginn handed him a plastic bin liner. “I tried to get her into bed but she wouldn’t go. She’s lying down on the couch, so that’s something. I had to let Barney get up on the couch with her.”

Matt gave a small laugh. “Bet that was hard.”

“You know Barns. Matt, do you think Phil will go to the sheriff?”

“Come on. I know he’s not your favorite, but he wouldn’t do that.” He packed in another load, fastened the bag and stood. “Okay, now you’ve got my cell phone number, Bobby’s is on speed dial on the kitchen phone and in the bedroom. If she gets violent or threatens you, just run. You leave her, or you let her go if that’s what she wants. Don’t try to stop her. Promise me.”

“Matt, she’s not going to do anything like that.”

“Ginn, please, just do as I ask. Promise me.”

“Okay. I promise. But don’t worry, I’ve got Barney.”

Matt picked up the bag. “Back in an hour.”

CHAPTER 9

Using the bag as a brake, Matt half slid, half slithered down into the canyon. The heavy moisture of late afternoon intensified the foul stink of the burn being drawn toward the ocean.

“Kanita!” His voice came back at him. His stomach was heavy with the weight of anxiety. “Hasan!” He hefted the bag, made his way to the piled rocks and trees where he had left them, his boots sliding on wet rock. He stood by the boulders, yelled again, listened to the silence resonate. He dumped the bag, walked the immediate area, then widened the search, calling, scanning the ground for footprints, but the leaf-strewn ground gave up nothing but the wrapper from the energy bar he’d given the child.

Hasan had herded them away, and they could be anywhere by now. Images flipped through his mind, the girls crying, the little group huddling together for comfort—and the child, her face filled with bewilderment and terror. She was about the same age he’d been when his mother died. He knew the bewilderment, but he’d never experienced the kind of terror he’d seen on that little girl’s face.

He returned to where he’d left the canvas carryall, took out his wallet, tucked every bill he had into a side pocket, not much, five twenties, a ten and some singles. He carried the bag to the little shelter under the trees, knelt to shove it way back into the darkest patch of tangled branches. He stood and looked around. He’d done all he could. So why did he feel so lousy?

The headlights on the Range Rover picked up Ginn’s silver BMW, then swept across a new black Mercedes 500 parked just beyond it. Matt drove into the garage, turned off the ignition, walked along the side deck. Ginn had put on the beach lights, illuminating the sand in front of the house, and the curl of the waves hitting the beach. She always used to do that when he worked late.

He opened the door. “Sorry it took so long,” he called out.

“It’s okay, Phil kept me company,” Ginn said. She came into the kitchen, looked over his shoulder. “Where are they?”

“They weren’t there. I left the stuff under a tree.” Matt hung up his coat and glanced at Halliburton. “I thought you had a dinner date with Annie.”

Phil shrugged. “I cancelled. I couldn’t leave you alone with this.”

A surprisingly kind gesture. He and Phil were not that close. “Thanks. Where is she?” He looked at the sofa, then at Ginn. “Where’s Barney?”

“I managed to persuade her to get into bed. Barney’s with her, she seems to feel better when he’s there. I think she’s sleeping. Phil, can I get you a fresh drink?”

“Sure, thanks.”

Ginn reached into the cupboard for glasses, mixed the drinks, put a vodka and tonic on the coffee table in front of Phil, handed the other glass to Matt, then poured a glass of Chardonnay for herself. Matt wondered if she realized she had not asked him what he wanted, she’d just fallen into their old end of the day routine, Laphroaig and water for him, white wine for her.

Matt swirled the liquid in his glass. His breath felt heavy, his very bones felt as if they were made of lead. “I think I’m going to have to call Bobby Eckhart.”

“We’ve already been through that. It’s not an option,” Ginn said. “Bobby would have to report it. She’d be taken into custody right away.”

Matt got up, walked around the sofa, looked out the window. The horizon had closed in, as if a gray curtain had dropped fifty yards out. The forecast said rain would move onshore sometime during the night but it looked as if it was already here. “Phil, can you get me a nurse, twenty-four-hour care?”

“You mean, live in? Here?” Phil asked.

“Well, I can’t leave her, I can’t take her to the hospital, what else is there?”

“Well, I suppose I could take her home with me,” Phil said slowly. “My housekeeper Lupe was illegal herself before the amnesty.”

“What about Annie?” Matt asked.

“What about her? We don’t live together. Besides, it’s only until you find another solution.”

Matt felt a flood of relief. “I’ll start with an immigration lawyer tomorrow.”

Phil looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. You got something to put on her? I can’t take her out dressed like that.”

“There’s still some of Ginn’s stuff in the closet.”

“I’ll get it.” Ginn got up, disappeared into the small guest bedroom.

As soon as she’d left, Phil opened his medical bag. “I’m going to have to give her that shot, Matt. I won’t be able to deal with her in the car if she’s hysterical.”

“No, I’m with Ginn on this. You saw how she was.”

“That’s precisely the point. A shot of Valium and there’s no danger of it happening again.” Halliburton opened the bedroom door.

The girl’s shriek brought Ginn hurtling through the doorway. She dropped a pile of clothes to the floor, shot across the room.

“What are you doing?” She saw the syringe in Halliburton’s hand. “It’s the needle, she’s frightened of the needle.”

“It’s hysteria, Ginn. In two minutes, she’s going to be okay.”

“No, she’s not,” Ginn said. “She’s terrified.”

The girl was curled into the fetal position, her shrieks replaced by the awful mewling of terror.

“This is not the first hysterical teenager I’ve treated. It’s just Valium, for God’s sake.”

“You’re not giving her anything. You guys get out,” Ginn said. “Go on. I’ll sit with her. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Ginn, this is a medical problem,” Phil said. “It’s hysteria, pure and simple.”

Ginn shot him a look that would have withered fruit on the trees. “Got it. Thanks, Phil. Leave Barney here when you go.”