Rage

to your ovaries or whatever?”

“How do you know about their drug usage?”

“I know the signs, Detective. Lara was a pothead when she was in high school. I never saw any evidence she’d stopped.”

“The bad crowd she fell in with,” I said.

“Bunch of spoiled kids,” she said. “Driving around in their parents BMWs, booming that music and pretending they were ghetto. Neither of my other two went for that nonsense.”

“You figure Lara continued using after she was married.”

“I know she did. The few times I visited their apartment- the few times they let me in- everything was a mess and you could smell it in the air.”

Milo said, “Did they ever use anything stronger than marijuana?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Balquin eyed him. “So this is about drugs. Is Barnett pushing?”

“Have you known him to sell drugs?”

“No, but I’m being logical. Don’t users become pushers to pay for their habit? And all those guns he keeps- Lara wasn’t raised with that, we never had so much as a BB gun in our home. All of a sudden they’ve got rifles, pistols, horrible stuff. He kept them out in the open, in a wooden case- the way sophisticated people display books. If you’re not doing something shady, why do you need all those guns?”

“Ever ask him?”

“I mentioned it to Lara. She told me to mind my own business.”

I looked for bookshelves in her front room. Nothing but pickled oak paneling and the photos on the back wall.

She said, “Lara used one of his guns to shoot herself. I hope he’s happy.” Her hands tightened into fists. “If he is a pusher, I hope you catch him and put him away forever. Because the last thing my daughter needed was another bad influence.”

She scraped an incisor with a fingernail, raised her glass to her lips, and drank slowly but steadily. Finished off the refill without taking a breath.

Milo said, “Is there anything else you’d like to tell us, ma’am?”

“I shouldn’t say this but… oh, what the hell, she’s gone and so is Kristal and I need to concentrate on rebuilding my own life.” She tightened her face again, held the tension so long that even the refashioned muscles of her cheeks and chin gave way.

“I always wondered if drugs had something to do with Lara losing sight of Kristal. She insisted it was only for a second, the store was crowded and she turned her head and she was gone. But doesn’t dope slow your reflexes?”

Milo uncrossed his legs. He took his pad out but didn’t write.

Nina Balquin said, “It’s a terrible thing to say about your own child, but how else can you explain it? I raised three kids, and as a toddler Mark was a hellion, all over the place, you couldn’t get him to sit still. But I never lost him. How do you just lose a child!”

Her voice had risen to a near scream. She plopped back heavily, massaged her left temple. “Damn cluster headache… the last thing I’d want to do is blame my daughter, but objectively… maybe that’s why Lara felt guilty enough to do what she- oh, spit it out, Nina! Maybe that’s why she killed herself!”

Both her hands began shaking violently. She sat on them, shut her eyes. A high-pitched keen made its way from behind closed lips.

Milo said, “We know this is hard, ma’am. We appreciate your being so frank.”

Nina Balquin opened her eyes. Her expression was vacant.

“Insight,” she said, “can be a bitch.”

***

As Milo thanked her, I walked to the back of the room and looked at the photos. A couple in their thirties with two kids under ten- the accountant son and his family. A woman who resembled Lara Malley, wearing a cap and gown. Heavier face than Lara’s, red hair curling from under the mortarboard. Sister Sandy.

No image of Lara, but below her sibs hung a cheaply framed, three-by-five snapshot of Kristal. Infant photo- less than a year old from the way she needed support to sit up. Wearing a pink cowgirl dress and matching hat. Bucking broncos and cacti in the background, a tiny moon above the plains, airbrushed slick. Probably one of those kiddie-photo outlets. The kind you find in every mall.

Smiling baby girl, chubby, rosy-cheeked. Big brown eyes engaged the camera. Moisture on her chin- teething drool.

Nina Balquin said, “I got that when I dropped in on them and brought Kristal a Christmas present. They had a stack. I had to ask for that one.”

***

We left her standing in her doorway, new drink in her hand.

Milo drove away, muttering, “Sometimes my crazy family doesn’t seem so bad.”

I said, “Mom hates Barnett’s guts but she never considered that he might’ve murdered Lara.”

He said, “That woman’s so fragile I kept waiting to pick up shards. Wonder how she’ll cope if we find out Barnett’s a much badder guy than she imagined.”

***

He chose surface streets over the freeway, took Van Nuys Boulevard north and connected to Beverly Glen. As we curved through the canyon, he said, “Just like Malley’s neighborhood, huh? Except for gazillion-dollar houses, tennis courts, foreign cars, a lot more greenery, and no trailer parks.”

“Perfect match,” I said.

“Anything Balquin say illuminate Malley psychologically?”

“If she’s credible, he isolated Lara from her family, was closemouthed about his origins, used dope. We know the part about gun-hoarding is true. Toss in the way he reacted to us and there’s potential for ugly.”

“Don’t guys who isolate their wives also abuse them?”

“It’s a risk factor,” I said. “If Malley’s basic approach to life was us against the world, Kristal’s murder would’ve buttressed that.”

“The world’s a rotten, dangerous place so stay armed and vigilant.”

“And strike back. What interests me is Nina’s suspicion that Lara was negligent due to drugs. That’s a tough place to get to when it’s your own kid. No matter how much therapy you have.”

“There’s Barnett’s reason for blaming Lara. Even though he’s also a doper.”

“Lara was the mom,” I said. “Mothers always get blamed. After Troy and Rand were sent away, Lara and Barnett started examining their own lives. Here’s a couple who had trouble conceiving. Finally, they produce a child only to have her ripped away in the worst manner possible. Talk about stress on a relationship. Maybe tension escalated to unbearable, the wrong things got said. A history of isolation and drugs and abuse would’ve added more heat. Maybe Lara stopped putting up with the abuse.”

“Got too assertive with the cowboy.” He aimed a finger gun at the windshield. “Kapow.”

“Kapow, indeed.”

CHAPTER 19

For most of the ride back to the city, Milo waded through LAPD bureaucracy in order to get