Flesh And Blood

“Well,” I said. “Now you’ve got a relief from your cold cases.”

“I’m sorry about this, Alex.”

“I just left a message for her mother. Told her I was still working on finding Lauren. Nothing like success, huh?” My eyes brimmed, and a hand-wipe didn’t do the trick. As I reached for my handkerchief, Milo turned away.

I stood there and let the tears gush. What the hell was this all about? I was no stranger to tragedy, had trained myself to maintain distance.

Lauren was dead at twenty-five, but my memories were dominated by a fifteen-year-old face. Too much makeup, useless little black purse. Ridiculous shoes.

I’ve changed.

You’ve grown up.

Have I?

My gorge rose, and this time I didn’t think I could hold back.

Milo’s voice was far away, fuzzed and funneled by distance. “You all right?”

I tried to mouth the word “Fine.” Turned and sprinted up the alley, found a spot away from the crime scene, and vomited convulsively.

The burn of rice wine, the fishy aftertaste of a fine Japanese dinner.

I waited in Milo’s unmarked as he did what he needed to do. My throat was raw, and my body was sheathed in clammy sweat. Yet I felt strangely serene. Milo’d left his cell phone on the front seat, and I called Robin.

She picked up right away – waiting.

“Sorry to ruin another evening,” I said.

“What happened?”

“Someone got killed. The case I mentioned today – what I couldn’t talk about. A girl I once treated. You’ll probably read about it in the paper tomorrow. They just found her body.”

“Oh, God – a child?”

“A young woman. She was a child when I met her. She’d gone missing, her mother asked me to help – I may end up going with Milo to notify her. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Alex, I’m so sorry.”

A laugh slipped out from between my lips. Inappropriate. Inexplicable.

“Love you,” I said.

“I know you do.”

Milo got behind the wheel, and I told him about Shawna Yeager.

He said, “I remember that one – the beauty queen. Guy named Leo Riley ended up with it, thank God.”

“Tough one?”

“Impossible from the get-go, not a shred of physical evidence and no witnesses. Leo used to gripe about it – his last case before retiring and he had to end it open. His hunch was some warpo got hold of the girl, did his thing, put her where she’ll never be found.” He eyed the Dumpster. “Whoever did this didn’t care about that.”

“True,” I said.

“Why’d you tell me about the Yeager girl?”

I repeated my conversation with Gene Dalby.

He said, “Two students, blond, good-looking, a year apart. If I’m right about the Yeager girl being a sex thing, that’s a long time between victims. Nothing you’ve said screams pattern.”

“Just thought I’d mention it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind if nothing else turns up on Lauren. Meanwhile, I’ve got uniforms headed over to her apartment to secure the premises and keep an eye on the roommate. Got a name on her?”

“Him. Andrew Salander. Mid-twenties. Tends bar at The Cloisters.”

“The Cloisters,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Short, skinny, pale kid with tattoos?”

“That’s him.”

“Andy.” His smile was uneasy. “Claims to fix a mean martini.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Hell if I know – I hate martinis.” He frowned. “So she roomed with Andy. Any idea how long?”

“He told me about six months. Said he’d been living downstairs in the same building, couldn’t make the rent and Lauren invited him to share.”

“Interesting.” Turning the green eyes on me. “What do you think of that? Her living with him.”

“Maybe she considered him safe.”

“Maybe he was.”

“You know something about him that makes you doubt it?”

“No,” he said. “A little too chatty for my taste, but he always seemed like a nice kid. Then again, his roomie got killed. We’ll just have to see.” He shifted in the seat. “Meanwhile, the fun part of the job: notifying Mom.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I know you will,” he said. “I wasn’t even thinking of talking you out of it.”

“Sherman Oaks,” he said from the passenger seat.

We’d swapped the unmarked for the Seville, and I was driving north on Sepulveda. I jumped onto the 405 north on-ramp, veered to the fast lane, pushed the car up to eighty-five.

Years ago the freeway would’ve been a clear sail at this hour. Tonight I had plenty of company, mostly big trucks lumbering and small cars rushing… The nerve to get in my way. I had big plans – Jane Abbot’s life to ruin.

I wondered if she was home yet. Or would we find the addled husband, alone? From mean old Lyle to that. Marital luck didn’t seem to be her specialty.

If she was home, what would I say – how would I tell her?

“Devana Terrace,” said Milo, reciting the address he’d gotten from Motor Vehicles. “South of Ventura Boulevard.”

I knew the neighborhood. Nice. Whatever his mental state, Jane Abbot’s second husband had provided well. Remembering his feeble voice, I wondered what she’d settled for.

“The Valley,” I said. “Lauren’s father took her to a miniature golf course in the Valley the day he terminated therapy.” I told him about Lyle Teague’s deception.

“Nice man,” he said. “You trying to tell me something about him?”

“No. Lauren denied abuse.”

“But you were concerned enough to ask her.”

“There was a seductive quality to his behavior. Lauren alluded to it herself – the time she came back to see me. She said it sounded as if he’d been jealous of her time with me. But she was very clear about there being no molestation.”

“Protesting too much?” he said.

“Who knows? I didn’t have time to find out.”

He grunted, stretched his long legs. “So after Daddy killed therapy, you saw her only that once?”

“I’m still not sure why she originally made the appointment, but she ended up unloading on me. Maybe that’s all she wanted.”

He was quiet for a while. I put on more speed and he laughed nervously and I slowed to eighty. He said, “From acting-out teenybopper to stripping and doing tricks. Lots of girls in the skin trade have abuse in their backgrounds.” Another laugh. “Who the hell am I lecturing to?”

“If her father did abuse her, he’s sure not going to admit it now.”

“Let’s see how he reacts to all this – and sooner, rather than later. He may be a schmuck, but as her parent he also merits notification.”

“If you can find him.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“He walked out on Lauren and her mother years ago, remarried. Sometimes men who run, run far.”