Belting out "Red River Valley" as I started doing the dishes, I was grateful for Bret's conspicuous absence. I can't carry a tune, but I like to sing-when I'm alone. Judging by the sleeping bag and piles of clothes scattered around the living room, I wasn't done with my boarder yet. He'd probably found a new girl, but in all likelihood it would be a one-night relationship. Ah well, none of my business. Except I didn't want him living here forever. I shuffled his stuff into one pile and cleaned the living room, thinking of Lonny. Would I want Lonny living here forever? I didn't know, but I enjoyed considering the question. When the house was neat, I gave serious thought to the day. Detective work? Staring at my pager, which sat on the kitchen table, black and implacable, I realized I'd have to stick to in-county investigating. Jim and I took it in turn to be on call on Sundays, and today was my turn. Sure as hell that pager would beep if I left the general vicinity of Santa Cruz. As it happened, I wasn't given a lot of time to worry about it.
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