Джонатан Келлерман - Serpentine

She laughed again. Softly. Sadly. “Of course being grokked out of my head didn’t help my perception. There I was, barely able to maintain and he’s purple. He started coming at me, like this.” Shoving her face forward and balling her fists.

The memory leached color from an already pallid face. “I was terrified. He’d never hit me, not even close, but this was different, I’m thinking you’ve lit a match, stupid, now you’re going to get burned. I backed away but he kept coming and now his lips are shaking and his eyes are bulging and I’m freaking one hundred percent out but I can’t move any farther because I’m up against the kitchen wall. So I screamed. This insane, banshee shriek, I couldn’t believe it came out of me. And he stopped. As if he knew a bad thing was on the verge of happening—something that couldn’t be reversed.”

Twisting in her chair, she began to cry, used the napkin, crumpled it, hung her head. “He had this look on his face, like I was disgusting. I’d stopped screaming but inside I was still freaking out. Then this creepy grin crept onto his face. His teeth weren’t great, he grew up poor. I remember thinking how brown and crooked they looked at that moment. Feral, you know? Then, as if someone had twisted a dial, he shrugged and said, ‘Like mother, like daughter,’ turned his back on me, and left. The next day when I got home I found his bedroom door locked and a note on my bed saying he’d registered me at Milrock, I could either go or find somewhere else to live.”

“Tough love,” said Milo.

“I deserved it. Sorry for not telling you the first time.”

I said, “You didn’t want to cast a bad light on either of them.”

“Especially Dad. He was the only parent I ever knew, never pressured me or made demands until I acted like a complete moron. Which even at the time I knew I was doing, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t relent.” Head shake. “Disruption for its own sake.”

Milo said, “Like mother like daughter.”

“After calling me a strumpet. The implication was clear. And it makes sense. What kind of mother leaves her biological child with a man she wasn’t even married to? For all she knew he could’ve given me up and I’d end up in foster care. So maybe she was loose. And egocentric. And whatever else—maybe I shouldn’t waste your time and mine. But I feel driven to—it’s like a hole that needs to be filled. If I don’t try, I’ll never feel resolved.”

She breathed in and out, ran her fingers through her hair, rubbed her eyes. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“We’ve verified your mother coming down to L.A. and living with a wealthy man.”

“Who? Someone famous?”

“Just rich,” said Milo. “At this stage, it’s best not to get into details.”

“Oh, c’mon, Lieutenant. Why can’t I know? Did what I just tell you cast aspersions on my sanity?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what? Do you think I’ll misuse the information?”

“It may not be relevant information.”

“So?”

“If you really want a thorough investigation, we can’t afford any sort of snafu.”

“Meaning what?”

“You confront someone, they complain to the cops, I’m pulled off the case.”

Masterful improv.

Ellie Barker said, “So we’re talking someone with clout.”

Milo smiled.

“Fine, be enigmatic—I have to tell you, your reasoning is kind of paternalistic. Hysterical woman bound to confront.”

“Not at all, Ellie.”

“Then what?”

“A hole that needs to be filled can fuel all sorts of things.”

“I am not going to—fine, I’ll back off, you barely know me, why should you trust me? But you’ll see, I can be trusted. And at some point, when you do have good information, I deserve to be informed.”

“You will be,” said Milo. “Just bear with it.”

“Oh, Lord—I’ve lasted this long, suppose I can endure. Are we talking someone in the movie business? Not famous like an actor, maybe behind the scenes?”

“Why would you think that?”

“She came to Hollywood. And in that picture I gave you, she looks pretty theatrical, don’t you think? Standing in some forest and she’s dolled up like for a party?”

I said, “Neither of them look like outdoorsy types. Your dad’s wearing a suit.”

“You’re right about that. I don’t think he owned a pair of sneakers.”

I glanced at Milo.

All these years, we’re attuned to cuing and receiving.

He said, “That’s kind of interesting. We looked into his death and he—”

“Went hiking and fell off a cliff,” she said. “I also thought about telling you but couldn’t see that it mattered. But yes, it is weird.”

“That park,” he said. “Did you know him to frequent it?”

“Never. But by then I was out of the house, for all I knew he was trying to get in shape—late-in-life exercise or something. For all I know he was interested in a new woman and that’s why. Though I doubt that. Dad just wasn’t like that. Or so I’d like to think.”

I said, “Like what?”

“Superficial, out for appearances. Unlike her. Maybe.”

Flash of heat in the gray eyes. “She walks out on us and goes to live with a rich guy in Hollywood? It’s pathetic, no? A cliché.”

Her lips moved. A single muttered word. If I hadn’t just heard it recently, I might not have deciphered.

Strumpet.

CHAPTER 21

As Ellie walked us to the door, Melvin Boudreaux appeared. Before Ellie got there he was in front of her, cracking the oak six inches and peering outside. Satisfied, he opened all the way and stationed himself in the center of the inner courtyard.

Ellie looked startled at being cut off.

Boudreaux said, “Part of the job, ma’am.”

“Ma’am, again. Do they teach you guys that in police school?”

Milo said, “We pride ourselves on being gentlemen.”

“Ah,” said Ellie Barker. “I suppose I could get used to it.”

—

As we drove away, I said, “Artful dodge.”

“What was?”

“You told her nothing but left her satisfied.”

“Couldn’t have her confronting Val and screwing things up.”

“Double bonus, she gave you new info.”

“Stanley hated Dorothy.”

“And Stanley could have a temper when pushed hard enough.”

He reached Los Feliz Boulevard, waited to make the illegal left. “Turning purple. Think I pay a little more attention to Barker. What we said before: He finds her and waylays her.”

“In a shiny new Caddy,” I said. “Maybe that was symbolic: You left me for someone richer, look what good it did you.”

“The mansion, the car, yeah, I can see that bringing on some serious magenta.”

Five-second traffic gap. He swung across the boulevard. “Problem is, I can’t see any avenue to Stan. For Tony—or the other Des Barres kids, for that matter—I can at least look for someone who knew the not-so-merry wives of Mulholland.”

“Maybe there’s someone around who recalls Stan and Dorothy as a couple.”

“Thirty-six years ago and five hundred miles away? You come up with something, let me know. Meanwhile, I’m gonna see what I can dig up about Helen and Arlette.”

I said, “Here’s a possible arrow to Arlette. In the article about her accident, the owner of the stables is mentioned.”

“Remember her name?”

“Nope.”

“Me, neither.” He handed me his notepad.

As he headed south, I made my way through two pages of his backhand scrawl before I found it.

Agua Fria Stables. Pasadena. Winifred Gaines.

I searched. “No current listing for the business. Hold on…nothing online about her, personally.”