“Fine.” Her pen poised. “Shoot.”
“Put the pad away.”
“You don’t trust me to keep it under wraps?”
“You just said your patience couldn’t be guaranteed.”
“We’re wasting each other’s time,” she said. “This is bullshit.”
“Then how about we table the proceedings? Something opens up, I promise to let you know.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re right,” he said.
She studied him. “You’re shitting me. Nice try.”
“I’m not. You’re right.”
“Admitting you made a mistake? Have you checked your Y chromosomes recently?”
“If it was up to me, Kelly, I’d have lots to tell you and it would hit the paper tomorrow. Not because I care about you or your job but because it could be in my best interest. Unfortunately, by pulling that stunt at the parking lot, you made sure anything you write is going to be traced right back to me.”
“I … maybe that was poor judgment but what was my choice?”
Milo shrugged.
Kelly LeMasters said, “Okay, fine, no notes and I swear to protect your identity.” The pad and pen returned to her bag.
Milo said, “Same for the tape recorder you’ve got in there.”
“How … fine, you’re an ace detective.” She produced the machine, switched it off.
He took it, removed a mini-spool that he pocketed, returned the recorder.
Her nostrils flared. “You’re going to keep that?”
“For both our sakes.”
“Want to check if I’ve got a nuclear-laser thought-reader in here?”
“Nah, those are so twentieth century. So what do you want to know, Kelly?”
“After all that I have to ask questions? Just tell me what you’ve learned about those baby skeletons.”
“The first skeleton may not be related to a crime.”
“What makes you say that?”
“No signs of trauma or injury.”
“Maybe it was smothered or something.”
“Anything’s possible but I need evidence.”
“A body buried under a tree is evidence,” she said. “If no crime was committed why conceal it?”
“Could’ve been a death due to natural causes that someone wanted to cover up.”
“What kind of death is natural for a baby?”
“Disease.”
“Then why cover it up?”
“Wish I knew, Kelly. I may never know.”
“Why the pessimism?”
“Too old, too cold.”
“I assume you’ve traced the owners of the house.”
“You assume correctly. No leads, there.”
“I know,” said LeMasters. “I looked into it, myself. Found that old guy in Burbank, the whole John Wayne thing, he had nothing to say. Neither did anyone in Cheviot Hills. Including that kid who blabbed to the SMC paper. Her thing was
Milo said, “Power of the press.”
“Yeah, we’re real popular-so I should just forget about the first one.”
“Probe to your heart’s content, Kelly. You learn anything, I’ll be grateful.” Sounding sincere. Not a word about Eleanor Green, a big blue Duesenberg.
Nothing from me to either of them about Dr. Jimmy Asherwood.
Kelly LeMasters said, “Okay, let’s get to the juicy one.”
“Once again, Kelly, there’s no evidence of trauma but I’m assuming homicide, because of the dead woman who was found across the park. Also, we’ve done prelim DNA on the bones and the baby was a girl.”
Kelly LeMasters didn’t emote. “Okay, go on.”
“By the state of her dentition two or three months old.”
“That’s it? What about the woman?”
Milo said, “Does it bother you at all?”
“What?”
“A baby.”
Her jaw tightened and her arms grew rigid. “Does it bother
“You bet.”
“Well, me, too,” she said. “So it’s settled, we both make our livings off other people’s misery but we’re still human.” She turned to me. “Guess that applies to you, too-the misery part. Tell me, did you coach him in all this psychological warfare?” She faced Milo again. “Does it
Milo said, “Sorry.”
“Screw the apology. Give me some meat to chew on.”
“We’ve identified the adult victim. Nothing in her past predisposes her to being murdered.”
“Name,” said LeMasters.
“Adriana Betts, originally from Idaho. She was religious, had no bad habits, worked as a nanny.”
“She took care of kids?”
“Yes.”
“That include babies?”
“In some cases.”
“That doesn’t sound like a connection to you?”
“Theoretically? Sure, Kelly, but we interviewed her employers and all their kids are alive and well. No one has a bad word to say about her.”
“Religious types can be hypocrites.”
“Anyone can.”
“What, you’re a Holy Roller? Despite what the church says about people like you?”
“Let’s stick with the case, Kelly.”
“I can’t see it,” said LeMasters. “Being Catholic and gay.” She laughed. “Unless you’re a parish priest.”
“You’re Catholic?”
“Once upon a time.”
“Nice to know you’ve got no biases.”
She frowned. “Where will you be taking the investigation?”
“Hard to say.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “Everyone says you’re methodical as well as intuitive, always come up with a plan. So don’t hold back on me. What’s next?”
“Same answer, Kelly.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I go off-record and you give me generalities?”
“That’s because generalities are all I’ve got. I could feed you stuff that would spark your prurient interest, set you off on a useless maze-run. But it wouldn’t help my case, could even hurt it if you printed fallacious crap.”
“I thought we were working on trust here.”
“We are,” he said. “Have we reached our goal?”
“Of what?”
“Mutually advantageous buddy-hood.”
“Not even close,” she said. “I promised to keep everything under wraps and you gave me squat.”
He creased his brow. “I’m going to tell you something else but you have to pledge not to use it until I say
