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all.
    "What's up?" Sally stood in my doorway,
laughing at how she'd just about startled me out of my chair.
    "I'm working on a case. For Stacy North."
    "A case? Isn't that Ron's department?" Then
my words really registered. "For Stacy North! As in Brad North? As
in heartbreak of the century?"
    "Don't over-dramatize. That was ten years
ago, my heart wasn't broken, just mildly cracked, and from what I'm
learning now, I think I have a lot to thank Stacy for."
    "You're kidding ."
    "Unh-unh." I began to realize that this
conversation wasn't exactly discreet, so I busied myself shuffling
the papers around, covering up any vital evidence in the
process.
    "Look, what I really stopped in for was to
see if you'd like to go backpacking with Ross and me this weekend.
We're going down to the Gila." She tried to make it sound like
Disneyland.
    "Gee, I uh.. I can't. Paul and Lorraine and
the kids are coming." I hoped I sounded properly regretful.
Truthfully, I'd rather have a root canal.
    "Well, maybe some other time." She breezed
away, feelings apparently intact.
    A pile of correspondence waited to be
answered, but I couldn't get my mind off Detweiller. Who wanted him
dead? At this point I didn't have enough information to hazard a
guess. I thought about interviewing all the people on my list.
There must have been forty names, an awesome task assuming that any
of them would even talk to me. I tried to think of a logical place
to begin.
    Motive, means, opportunity. The three key
words in finding a criminal. What I needed at this point were more
facts. I called Stacy at home, suggesting lunch. She recommended
the club, and I said I'd come by her house to pick her up. She gave
me directions. I wasn't sure what had prompted my offer to come to
her house. I'd never had the least curiosity about her life with
Brad but now I wondered. Maybe I'd gain some insight into the
friend I hadn't seen in so long.
    I organized my desk and watered all the
plants in the office before leaving. Rusty stayed behind to keep
Sally company. I dashed home to change clothes before starting the
trek to the far northeast heights. I'd never been inside the Tanoan
Country Club, and hoped that an emerald green dress with soft wool
draped flatteringly across the bodice would be appropriate. The
color set off my auburn hair nicely anyway. I chucked the down
jacket for a calf length wool coat that I hadn't worn in ten years
and hoped it wasn't too far out of style.
    The temperature was in the fifties, with a
clear sky the color of a robin's egg. I was no sooner in the car
than I decided the wool coat would have to go. I couldn't handle
the bulk or the warmth. Outside, I could stand it but not in
here.
    The Tanoan community is just about as far
away as one can get from the side of town where I
live—geographically and mentally. Surrounded by white walls the
observer gets glimpses of what would probably be stately homes if
they weren't packed so tightly together. From the outside the
impression is lots of earthtone stucco, windows, balconies, and
Spanish tile, jammed into a conglomeration that makes it difficult
to know where one house begins and the other ends. Each of these
architectural delights needs a minimum of two acres to show it off
properly. Instead, they are crammed onto regular city lots. And to
think they pay extra for this coziness.
    I turned left at the first break in the big
white wall. A matching white guardhouse was planted into the middle
of the drive, with hefty-looking black iron gates on either side.
The gate leading in stood open, but a guard with folded arms
waited, daring me to drive through without stopping. On the other
side, the exit, fearsome tire spikes awaited any who might attempt
gate running through the "outie." I wasn't sure I wanted in at all,
certainly not badly enough to pay for four flat tires.
    I pulled to a stop beside the guard. On
closer inspection, he was at least seventy, with a big toothless
grin that wasn't the least bit scary. I