Jonathan Kellerman - Flesh And Blood

“That’s TV crap – LeMoyne’s world. So was my line about Salander being a material witness. The truth is, he and old Justin are free to fly off to Antigua any damn time they please.” He looked back at the Palm Court, cracked his knuckles. “I always knew it was about money, but Tony Duke’s daughter… Talk about high-stakes blackmail.”

I watched the traffic on Washington Boulevard, thinking about things Lauren had told me – that her parents hadn’t been married when she’d been conceived. That they’d “brought me up with lies.” The wall of ice between her and Lyle. The remark to Michelle about her mother “screwing up.”

How early had she sensed something wrong? What had the truth done to her?

Jane had called me in a panic after Lauren had disappeared. Knowing what Lauren was up to, suspecting the five-day absence was more than just another extended weekend. Trying to motivate the police but holding back facts that might’ve helped. Even after Lauren’s death Milo had felt Jane had been less than helpful. I thought back to any hints she might have dropped, came up with only one: “Lauren’s never gotten anything from her father, and maybe that was my fault.”

Guilty – she had to have been tormented. Yet it hadn’t led her to finally open up. Worrying about her own safety. Justifiable fear.

And maybe something else: Lies had been the poisonous glue that held this family together.

“The time line fits,” I said. “Lauren was arrested for prostitution in Reno when she was nineteen, called Lyle for bail money but he turned her down. I always wondered why she phoned him and not Jane, but maybe it was because she still cared what Jane thought. Still, stuck in jail, she might’ve turned to Jane. And maybe Jane came through. But she didn’t give Lauren any of the money she’d collected from Tony Duke because she didn’t think Lauren could handle it. Instead, she tried to reconnect with Lauren. It was a slow process – Lauren had been on the streets for three years, was sitting on a lot of anger, and she continued to hook and strip. But Jane persisted, and some kind of bond must’ve been formed. Because two years later – when Lauren was twenty-one – Jane did give her the money, using the Mel Abbot cover story. You remember how Jane emphasized to us how well Lauren and Mel got along.”

He nodded. “Mel being a nice guy made it easier for Lauren to believe.”

“Shortly after Lauren received the hundred thousand, she set up her investment account, went back to school, got her GED, enrolled in community college, quit working for Gretchen. Maybe all of that was part of a deal with Jane, or Lauren really wanted to get her life together. Every year after that she invested another fifty-thousand-dollar annual payment.”

Milo said. “A deal. Give up the life, get rich.” His hand landed on my shoulder, and his eyes took on that sad, sympathetic droop – the look that comes over him when he delivers bad news.

“I know,” I said. “Lauren continued to freelance. Cash income, most of which she never declared and used for spending money.”

Big tips. Expensive tastes. Rapprochement with her mother or not, Lauren had remained a very angry young woman. About missing out on all those years as Tony Duke’s daughter. About the trade-offs she’d made.

What Andy Salander had called every little girl’s fantasy had become Lauren’s reality – only to twist and abort.

“Maybe it wasn’t blackmail,” I said. “Just Lauren claiming her birthright – stepping forward and upsetting the family applecart.”

“What, someone tied her up and shot her because she wanted emotional validation?” Milo’s hand got heavy, then it lifted. His eyes remained sad, and his voice got soft. “I know you want to believe something good about Lauren, but cold execution and all those other people dying says she tried to use her birthright to hit on the old man big-time. A fifty-grand-a-year allowance is one thing, a chunk of Duke Enterprises is another.”

“Maybe I am denying,” I said. “But think about it: Blackmail would only have worked if Tony Duke had something to hide, Milo. He sent money to Jane – and by extension to Lauren – for years. If he wanted to eliminate nuisances, why not do it right and have them killed right at the beginning?”

“Because he was dealing with Jane and Jane was reasonable. But once Lauren knew the truth, things got nasty – O impetuous youth. Jane knew what Lauren was capable of. That’s why she tried to hold her back from contacting Duke. That’s why when Lauren disappeared she suspected something was off. Not that it led her to tell me the truth.”

“Jane tells her who her daddy is, then holds her back,” I said. “It was manipulative.”

“Or just a screwup. People make mistakes. Salander’s right about cheap wine. Jane had been living with the secret for over twenty years. Her inhibitions finally dropped and she ran her mouth. Then she realized what she’d done, tried to get the Furies back in the box.”

“Still,” I said. “Dr. Maccaferri’s presence at the estate says Duke’s seriously ill. Why would he be worried now about acknowledging Lauren’s paternity? On the contrary, wouldn’t he want to connect? But there are people who’d view Lauren as the ultimate threat: a giant slice cut out of the inheritance pie.”

He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Dugger and his sister.”

“Lauren carried a gun but never used it. My theory was that she knew and trusted the killer. Half sibs would fit that bill. Especially a half sib like Ben Dugger – outwardly such a nice guy. Lauren thought she had him pegged, let down her guard. She thought she was the actress and he was the audience. That delusion cost her.”

A pizza delivery truck sped into the lot, stopped, checked the address, continued toward the front door, and screeched to a halt in a No Parking zone. A kid wearing a blue baseball cap got out toting two flat white boxes.

Milo said, “Yo!” and waved him over. The kid stood there, and we jogged to his side. Hispanic, maybe eighteen, with hair cropped to the skin, Aztec features, puzzled black eyes.

“Here you go, friend,” said Milo, peeling off two twenties. “Room two fifteen, just knock and leave it outside the door. And keep the change.”

“Thanks, man – sir.” The kid sprinted for the hotel, shoved at the door, vanished.

Milo said, “The Pizza Olympics. Offer enough positive reinforcement and we’d have ourselves a winning team in track and field.” He motioned toward the unmarked, and we started walking across the lot.

I said, “Lauren probably thought she was after the money, but she was searching for Daddy. Pathetic.”

“I wonder,” he said, “if Lyle ever suspected Lauren wasn’t his kid.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just the thing Lauren might have told him out of spite. His finding out would explain how hostile he was when we notified him. Also why he’s eager to pump me about Lauren’s will. Not being her blood relative, he knows he’s got no legal right to anything she left behind. But with Jane gone, who’s gonna argue with him, and under the law his paternity’s presumed. The Duke family’s sure not gonna protest if he ends up with the money in Lauren’s investment account. And even if he does manage to connect Lauren to Duke, he’d keep his mouth shut about it, ’cause that would squash his claim to three hundred grand. To them, that’s chump change. To Lyle, it would be the windfall of his life.”

“Lauren did made a crack to Tish Teague about her daughters not being family, so I can see her taunting Lyle. But he told us he and Jane had tried to have other kids, but all they could squeeze out was Lauren. So it was obviously Jane’s problem. Still, if Lauren did take a dig at his manhood, it could’ve led to something else. Lyle’s an angry guy who likes to drink and surrounds himself with firearms. He could’ve just lost it. Gone after Lauren, then Jane. Revenge for the lies. And now he hopes to profit.”