Джонатан Келлерман - Serpentine

More scrolling, another preset, switch to speaker.

“Hi, Deirdre, it’s Milo Sturgis again.”

A woman said, “Oh, hi. What’s up?”

“I know you said Phil didn’t talk about his cases but did he ever happen to mention any missings from way back?”

“He had so many of those, Milo. Have you ever worked them?”

“Never.”

“Phil hated missings,” said Deirdre Seeger. “He said you put so much time into them and most of them resolve by themselves. He was happy to switch to Property Crimes and then when his application for Homicide finally got approved, he was jumping for joy.”

“So no discussions about specific cases.”

“No, Phil cherished our time together. Cherished me and kept me away from bad things. I mean, sometimes he’d say I’ve got a frustrating one, doll. But that’s about it. How long ago is ‘way back’?”

“Thirty-seven, -eight years, maybe forty. Give or take.”

“That’s right after he got out of uniform and started at Missings. All I know from that time was he kept long hours and came home tired. But my cooking revived him. My desserts, especially.”

“The missing in question is a young woman, Deirdre. Early twenties, hung out in Beverly Hills.”

“That doesn’t help,” she said. “And Beverly Hills? Way outside of Phil’s jurisdiction. What he would’ve called above my pay grade.”

“Okay, thanks, and sorry for bothering you.”

“Oh, it’s no bother, Milo. I’m not exactly on a tight schedule.”

The phone went back into his pocket.

I said, “Frustration can hang you up or push you forward.”

“Seeger somehow got a fire in his belly?”

“Free to do what he wanted, no pressure from above? Maybe bored with retirement?”

“Hmm…never experienced pressure myself but that’s because of my magnetism.”

“No doubt.”

As he reached for the shift lever, I said, “Maybe Galoway remembers something from Seeger’s notes.”

“Didn’t sound that way when we talked to him but can’t hurt to ask.”

Du Galoway’s hearty voice came on after two rings. “Milo. Hey, what’s up? Progress, I hope? You got me thinking about the case.”

“I wish, Du. I’m calling to ask you something.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Was there any mention in Seeger’s notes about a missing at Des Barres’s place prior to Dorothy’s murder?”

“Des Barres,” said Galoway. “You’re looking into the bastard. Great.”

“Baby steps,” said Milo.

“But sorry, nothing like that. You’re thinking the bastard was a serial? Shit, wouldn’t that be something.”

“What caught my interest in the missing is Seeger worked it before he got to Homicide.”

“You’re kidding,” said Galoway. “It’s getting that smell, isn’t it? Too bad I never got time to work it properly.”

“Pressure from the boss.”

“Nuclear pressure. I’m a greenhorn, getting nowhere, the fat slob’s pissed in the first place that I applied to Homicide and got in—why’m I telling you this, you know what the job’s like. So who was the missing?”

“All I know so far is she hung with Des Barres.”

“At the house?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” said Galoway. “Sorry for poking, I used to hate when I was working a tough one and someone did that to me.”

“No prob, Du. If you remember anything about anything, let me know.”

Galoway sighed. “Wish I could say that was going to happen. It’s the failures that stick with us, right? Good luck.”

Milo hung up but kept the phone in his hand. “Any other suggestions?”

I said, “Don’t imagine Hollywood missings files were preserved better than homicides, but…”

“You’re right, less than unlikely.” But he phoned the archivist, got voicemail.

Just as he began to pull away from the curb, Petra called.

He explained about the burglary at Des Barres’s house and how the decision not to file a report had mooted the issue.

She said, “He loses a bunch of bling but lets it ride? That’s different. My experience is rich folks are the most aggressive when it comes to their stuff. You’re thinking there was another reason Des Barres didn’t want any poking around at the castle.”

“Buried bodies,” said Milo. “Literally or otherwise.”

“Any way to get in there and poke around?”

“Not yet but there’s a possible hook for the long run.” He filled her in about the missing woman and P. J. Seeger’s involvement.

She said, “Two women gone. I’m picturing an unofficial graveyard out back.”

“Could be, it’s a big place.”

“Yuck. When did this other girl go missing?”

“Before Dorothy’s death. Des Barres’s second wife died a year before, maybe they’re connected.”

He told her about the woman Winifred Gaines had seen following Arlette Des Barres into the forest, our theory about an aspiring Queen Bee.

She said, “Money’s always motive number one and there was plenty of it. A murder victim and a missing in the same photo. Sounds like joining the harem was a high-risk endeavor.”

“Val Des Barres has that same feeling.” He related our meeting.

She said, “Letting the devil in. Think she knows more than what she can admit right now?”

“Could be. She didn’t have to step forward in the first place, so there’d be no reason to be evasive.”

“Still, there could be something psychological—denial, whatever. Alex there?”

I said, “Here.”

“That make sense to you? Whatever she suspects of her dad, he’s still her dad, there’s just so much she can handle?”

“Could be.”

She laughed. “That’s all I’m going to get?”

Milo said, “He’s like that. But when he does consent to elaborate, it can get interesting.”

“Still waters running deep,” she said. “Yeah, I’ve seen him do that.”

I said, “Ahem.”

“C’mon, Alex, worship from afar is the best a consultant can hope for. Milo, what about the third girl in the photo? Could she be the bad girl?”

“Maybe, she’s got great cheekbones,” said Milo.

Winking at me. The same was true of Petra and she’d heard about it plenty.

She laughed. “Excellent structure is not a personality flaw.”

“So you claim. Listen, kid, don’t want to keep bugging you but Seeger was at your shop. Any chance there are prehistoric missing files lying around?”

“I doubt it. Since the remodel, anything that shows up is random. But I’ll check.”

“Appreciate it. Want me to email the photo?”

“Can’t hurt. Unless those cheekbones are too impressive.”

“I wouldn’t worry.”

“Aw, gee,” she said. “All this workplace support.”

—

Three days passed with as many letdowns.

Day One, Deirdre Seeger called to let Milo know she’d taken the time to go into her garage because it contained some of the “elements of Phil’s life. Including his Harley manual and all sorts of spare parts, I have no clue what they are.”

That memory choked her up. She went on to say that she’d found no old files, no case notes, just books and magazines. “All moldy and falling apart. Phil was a big reader. American Rifleman, Shooting and Fishing, National Geographic, some old Life s, a few of those gross detective rags, why Phil loved them I could never figure out. I guess I should do a thorough housecleaning but…what am I going to end up with? Blank space?”

“Thanks, Deirdre.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Day Two, Du Galoway called to let Milo know he’d spent a long time thinking and meditating “because that sometimes feeds my memory. But in this case, nothing. I guess I told you everything I know the first time. Sorry.”