Free Chasing Venus by Diana Dempsey Page A

intention.”
    They assumed what she
was starting to think of as their usual positions in the living room.   Though she’d love a cup of coffee, she
refused to mention caffeine.   Now
that they were actually in her home, she found herself even more irritated, and
toyed with the idea of refusing to consent to a search.   But would she be cutting off her nose to
spite her face?   Because if they
searched they’d find nothing.   They’d have to leave.   And
she’d be up a point.   They’d be
reluctant to bother her again.
    She crossed her arms,
taking care to modulate her tone.   Pissing the feds off wouldn’t further her cause, either.   “You gentlemen took up a great deal of
my time the other day.   I do not
want that to happen again.”
    Simpson’s expression
remained unchanged.   “We’re not
interested in wasting your time or ours, Ms. Rowell.   We’re here today because we would like
you to consent to a partial search of your property.”
    “What part?”
    “The backyard.”
    That was the last thing
she expected to hear.   What passed
for a backyard at “the old Marsden place” was a sad half-acre of hard uneven
terrain that rolled away from a cockeyed stoop at the rear of the house.   In days of yore, some hardy soul had
taken a stab at clearing out the rocks and weeds, but they’d given up a few
yards into the job.   The area was
bordered by a motley assortment of shrubs and gnarled trees, some of which
looked so dry she worried they were a fire hazard.   The whole thing was so unsightly that in
the year she’d been renting the house she never used the backyard.   She barely remembered that she had it.
    “What do you think
you’re going to find in my backyard?”
    Higuchi spoke.   “We can’t answer that question.”
    Simpson took over.   “Ms. Rowell, it would aid our
investigation to search your backyard.   I don’t believe it will take an inordinate amount of time.   In fact, you can go about your business
here in the house while we’re at it.”
    She stared out the
window to give herself time to think.   They’d thrown her a curve ball with this one.   She’d expected them to want to search
the house, maybe go through her computer files.   But the backyard?   In a way this made giving her consent
even easier.
    Again she faced
Simpson.   “We agree that it would be
just the backyard.   Not the front,
not the interior of the house, just the backyard.   That’s it.”
    Simpson was about to
respond when the doorbell rang.

 
    *

 
    “May I come in?” Reid
asked.
    He could tell she
wasn’t happy to see him.   Once she
got over her initial shock, her green eyes flashed and her chin rose.   She looked like an irritated sprite.
    “What are you doing
here?” she said.
    “I know that Lionel
Simpson wants to search your property.”   He’d gone into the studio early that morning and seen the tipsheet .   More
to the point, he’d spoken to Sheila and found out that she’d alerted Simpson to
it.   She wasn’t always so proactive
but he could guess why she had been this time.
    “News sure travels
fast.   But what does this have to do
with you?”   She stepped onto her
porch to look up and down the street.   “Did you bring a camera crew so you could film this?   I won’t give you permission to do that.”
    “I didn’t bring a
crew.”   In fact, he’d come on his
lonesome.   All the way from LA and
on a Saturday.   The reasons why were
complex, and not entirely business.
    Simpson appeared behind
her.   He didn’t look any too pleased
to see the new arrival, either.   “Hello, Reid,” he muttered.
    “Lionel.   Have you started yet?”
    “No.   She was about to give her consent when
you showed up.”
    “Please don’t talk
about me as if I’m not here.”   She
glared at each of them in turn.   “I
am very much here and I’m beginning to think twice about this entire thing.”
    “You should,” Reid
said.
    Her head snapped in