Ben nodded. 'She didn't like him much.'
'Why's that?'
'I dunno. She never went into details-just said he was an asshole, really picky, and she was gonna quit. Then she did, back in February.'
'Did she get another job?'
'Not that she told us about,' said Bobby.
Any idea how she paid her bills?'
'Nope, but she always had money to spend.'
Ben gave a sick smile.
Bobby said, 'What?'
'Her and her boss. She hated him but now they're both in the same boat. L.A. got em.'
Bobby shuddered and ate a muffin.
Learning about Dawn Herbert's murder and her penchant for stealing got me thinking.
I'd assumed she'd pulled Chad's chart for Laurence Ashmore.
But what if she'd done it for herself because she'd learned something damaging to the Jones family and planned to profit from it?
And now she was dead.
I drove to the fish store, bought a forty-pound bag of koi food, and asked ill could use the phone to make a local call. The kid behind the counter thought for a while, looked at the total on the register, and said, 'Over there,' pointing to an old black dial unit on the wall.
Next to it was a big saltwater aquarium housing a small leopard shark.
A couple of goldfish thrashed at the water's surface. The shark glided peacefully. Its eyes were steady and blue, almost as pretty as Vicki Bottomley's.
I called Parker Center. The man who answered said Milo wasn't there and he didn't know when he'd be back.
'Is this Charlie?' I said.
'No.'
Click.
I dialed Milo's home number. The kid behind the counter was watching me. I smiled and gave him the one- minute index finger while listening to the rings.
Peggy lee delivered the Blue Investigations pitch. I said, 'Dawn Herbert was murdered in March. Probably March 9, somewhere downtown, near a punk music club. The investigating detective was named Ray Gomez. I should be at the hospital within an hour-you can have me paged if you want to talk about it.'
I hung up and started walking out. A froth of movement caught the corner of my eye and I turned toward the aquarium. Both the goldfish were gone.
The Hollywood part of Sunset was weekend-quiet. The banks and entertainment firms preceding Hospital Row were closed, and a scatter of poor families and drifters massaged the sidewalk. Auto traffic was thin-mostly weekend workers and tourists who'd gone too far past Vine.
I made it to the gate of the doctors' parking structure in less than half an hour. The lot was functioning again.
Plenty of spaces.
Before heading up to the wards, I stopped at the cafeteria for coffee.
