“Anyway, what else did he say, Mark? Jesus, you shouldn’t have used that phone.”

“Why not?”

She opened her mouth, but apparently the question was so idiotic that she couldn’t figure out how to answer it. She just shook her head in tiny little turns and flapped her arms a couple of times. It was as though I’d asked what babies were made of, or why feet have legs attached.

I didn’t wait long. “Relax, it was a short conversation, all about how you have “obligations” and “responsibilities” to consider.”

And yes, I did make little quotation marks with my fingers when I said obligations and responsibilities.

“Which brings me to my many questions. I mean, I believe every word you’ve told me” – and I really did – “but I’m just still confused about a lot of this stuff, and I need to be not confused. And- CRAP. I’m supposed to be at work in about an hour and a half.”

Through a small smile, she said, “that’s obviously not going to happen.”

“Ok. So let’s get comfortable and I’ll ask my seventeen thousand questions, then we can figure out where to go from here. I mean, first of all, I’d like to know whether there’s going to be anyone shooting at me for the next short period of my life.”

“That’s not a question, Sweetie.”

But I pretty much wasn’t in that kind of a mood, if you know what I mean. Usually I’m game for a fun evening of wordplay, but really.

“Let’s just leave kidding aside for at least eight hours after I’ve faced machine-gun fire. Ok?”

She sat up in the bed and let her face get serious. And the words were serious, too. “I don’t know if the shooting is finished.”

Fuck. On the one hand, at least this didn’t sound like misdirection. But on the other, well, I mean, fuck. Couldn’t she have just said, “yeah, baby, sleep tight ’cause it’s all over now”?

Not that I would have believed her.

“Ok, well, we’ll get to that later, I guess.” And then, counting on my fingers, I rushed through the list.

“One, what was actually in the cat food bag and how long was it there?”

Short breath

“Two, right, as I just mentioned, what “obligations” and “responsibilities” was the cigar-chomping boss-man on the other end of the cell phone talking about?”

Quotation marks again. I’m addicted.

Short breath.

“And three, while we’re on the subject of what people are talking about, what was Holly talking about when she left that message about saving the world, or whatever?”

Deep breath. And a matching one from Anne-Marie.

“Oh, yeah!” I almost yelled, making her jump a little, “and what happened at Lipshot Way? And you’ve got a gun?”

The numbered list had broken down a bit, and I’m sure there were more things I was wondering, but I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I’d say that I was thinking pretty damn curvy at the moment.

Anne-Marie opened her mouth about half an inch and the phone rang. In another frame of mind, I might have joked that the sound actually came from her, since it coincided so perfectly with her lips parting.

Instead, I just sat there and looked dumbly at her while she reached for the phone. She said hello, nodded, and held the receiver out to me. I looked at her incredulously. What is it with the 7:30 am phone calls? She shrugged and raised her eyebrows. Hell if she knows.

I picked up the extension on the desk near the recliner and Anne-Marie hung hers up.

“Hello.” I stated it as though I were answering a question.

“Holloway. It’s Detective Leary. How ya doin’.” Also answering a question. Two deadpan guys on a phone. Nothing to see here.

“On the shitty side, Detective. How’d you find me here?”

“Shut up,” he explained. “You didn’t return my call from yesterday, but I need you to listen to me very carefully, and I need you to do what I say. You hear me?”

I hung up. The thing is, I was getting sick of listening to people who were rude to me, or shot at me, or generally treated me badly when my wife turned out not to be kidnapped. I figured it was time to be rude right back. I enjoyed it, in fact, but almost immediately felt guilty and stupid. Rude, Leary was, but he was a cop, and he had never actually tried to hurt me.

Phone rang again before Anne-Marie could even start to ask me what was going on. I picked it up halfway through the first ring.

“We got disconnected,” I said. “That seems to happen when people tell me to shut up.”

“Pretty fucking please, Mr. fucking Holloway, listen to what I say or you’ll be fucking dead before you can think of a witty rejoinder.”

Holy shit. Leary said “witty rejoinder.” I may have underestimated the guy.

“The woman you mentioned, Holly Go-whats-her-name. She’s seriously bad news. I’m not even calling you from the office, you understand? I can’t even make this call from the office, because she’s tuned in? You understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” I yawned. “Thanks for the call, Leary.”

“Hey. I’m not screwing around,” he said quietly. It was his quiet that got me. He really was just trying to help, of course, and maybe he realized that he was too quick to leave me to the wolves last time.

“She’s a friend of my wife’s,” I said, “I mean, she may be dangerous, but I don’t think she’s after me.”

“No, Holloway, I don’t think she’s after you, but she’s not too worried about protecting you, either, is she? How’s that rooftop helipad at your place? Pretty roomy?”

“I see your point.”

Once Anne-Marie had heard the word “detective,” she was no longer nonchalant about the phone call. She’d been making all manner of questioning gestures, and at the mention of “a friend of my wife’s,” she hoisted her eyebrows nice and high. In return, I guess I was supposed to deliver a facial expression that summed up the conversation, but I didn’t even try. I waved a vague hand at her as Leary spoke again.

“Listen, Holloway, I assume that you don’t want to wind up a dolphin in her tuna net, and I think I may be able to help you avoid it. But the first thing you need to do is separate yourself from your wife for a few hours. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Not really, no. We’re a little shaken up right now, you know? I think we need to stick together.”

Back to deadpan, he said, “I think she’ll be all right.”

“Leary, I’m not leaving my wife alone while I brush my teeth, let alone to roam around for a few hours. No way.”

Anne-Marie’s eyebrows hit the troposphere.

Leary sighed, then spoke. He sounded tired. “You know, when I was a kid, my dad asked me to tell him how many legs the dog had. I said four. Then Dad said, ‘let’s say we call the tail a leg. Then how many legs would he have?’”

He paused, and I rolled my eyes at Anne-Marie. Just what I need, homespun wisdom.

Leary continued. “I said that if we called the tail a leg, then that dog would have five legs. But Dad said no. He’d still just have four.

“‘Son,’ Dad said, ‘just ’cause we call a tail a leg doesn’t mean it is a leg.’”

“Uh huh. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means be careful. I’ll be in touch.” And he hung up.

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