Free Fool's Journey by Mary Chase Comstock Page A

out
the window. "You said you could get out on the roof if there was ever a
problem. If you can get out that way, it's pretty easy for somebody to get in,
don't you think?"
                "Don't tell me there's a crazed gymnast out
there."
                "Maybe not," he laughed, "but there could
be a crazed tree climber. That oak there could carry a lot of weight. All
someone would have to do is drop from that branch."
                "It must be at least ten feet, though," Deirdre
protested, "and another two stories to the ground."
                "Well, maybe a crazed amateur gymnast. Or even some
kind of genius who knows how to go get a ladder."
                She didn't find his sarcasm amusing, even though she knew
he was doing his best to put her at ease. "So, what should I do?"
                Manny pulled out a pocketknife and began to scrape away
at the layers of paint. "We'll see how this works for now."
                Deirdre folded her arms and sat down on the bed. "Is
this your special detective pocket knife?"
                "James Bond model. I got it in my Wheaties this
morning." He continued scraping for a few moments. "There, I think I
got it." He swung the window in and pulled it shut. Then he turned the
catch.
                "That should do it for now. What you save on heat
should make up for the damage deposit."
                He folded the knife and returned it to his pocket, then
brushed his hands on the sides of his pants. Deirdre was sitting cross-legged
on her narrow bed, watching him. She wondered what would happen if he sat down
with her.
                "How about you, Manny?" she asked. "Do you
read cards?"
                He smiled. Three slow steps would take him to her.
                "You crazy? I wouldn't touch them." He leaned
back against the window frame. "I just read palms."

XI.

 
                Deirdre held out her hand in front of her, palm up, and
waited. An offering. Still leaning against the window frame, Manny shook his
head.
                "Not enough time to do a good job," he said.
"Long night tonight. Back alley work. One of my clients has someone they
want me to follow. Sound sleazy enough?"
                "Pretty sleazy," she admitted. Then she laughed
softly and shook her head. "I'll have to tell you about my job sometime.
Bet I can top you."
                He returned her smile. "At last, the truth about the
Ivory Tower. That sounds promising. You going to campus tomorrow?"
                "Probably not – I'm on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday
teaching schedule. I'm meeting a colleague for lunch near campus, but I haven't
decided whether I'll go into the office."
                "How about we get some coffee in the morning?"
he asked. "I should probably get some more background information on you
anyway, just in case. Could be nothing more will happen, but it's best to be
prepared. Afterwards I can drive you wherever it is you're going."
                Deirdre felt the panic rising in her once more. She
needed to put him off. Part of her craved the security he offered, but the rest
recoiled at the thought of the revelations he would inevitably seek.
                "No, Manny," she said. "I appreciate the
offer, but it sounds as if you'll be working late tonight as it is. You've
already done too much, gone to too much trouble."
                He shook his head and laughed, a low, rusty chuckle.
"You've got it wrong. You want to know what too much trouble is, Deirdre?
Too much trouble is explaining to my Aunt Rosa why I let you go running around
by yourself. She thinks a lot of you."
                "But even she can't expect a detective to do pro bono work," Deirdre said
quickly. "I'm not an official client."
                "Is that all that's worrying you? Well, let's