Jonathan Kellerman - Breakdown

He put his whiskey down, traced a line in the frost coating the iced-tea glass. “Let’s say Enid is a rich lady who had the misfortune of being invaded by Zelda. Maybe or maybe not she had the colchicine on her property. Maybe or maybe not she watched Zelda die instead of calling for help and is covering her own ass by making up a cockamamie story. What bothers me is that next big step: offing two innocent bystanders. You see her able to transport corpses? Trucking them away in her Porsche or her Rolls and putting the bodies where they haven’t been found? The alternative is a classic domestic: Maria Garcia did kill Alicia. But the problem with that is Imelda. I know Lorrie suggested her case could be unrelated to Alicia. But two women, same job, go missing at the same time?”

I thought about that. “There is another way to turn the prism. Imelda and Alicia aren’t dead. They went off together.”

“Imelda’s gay and just came out?”

“What if they met while schmoozing during lunch hour and something clicked? Most affairs begin at work.”

“Imelda would just bail on her family and leave them with all that anxiety?”

“Telling them could seem worse,” I said. “Maybe she’s still figuring out how to do it.”

“Hey kids, guess what, Mom’s got a see-cret... yeah, that could be messy.”

He picked up his whiskey and finished it. “Alicia and Imelda being an item could lead somewhere else: Maria found out and dispatched both of them. She might’ve even surprised them at work. All we have is her word that she didn’t know where Alicia worked.”

“She’s got no driver’s license.”

“So she borrowed wheels. Or hired a lowlife from the park to do a contract killing. Seeing as we’re fact deprived, anything’s possible. Hell, we sit here long enough, we could create a mini-series.”

He called for a refill. Mary looked at me. I said, “I’m fine.”

“Maybe you’ll get thirsty when the pizza comes. We put too much salt in it.”

A few minutes later she returned with Milo’s drink and the pie, a massive disk laden high with a few things I could identify, many I couldn’t.

“Clams,” said Milo, picking up an amorphous pink chunk. “Excellent.”

“Even more salt to help your blood pressure,” said Mary. To me: “Try it, see if I’m right.”

I peeled off a slice and tasted. One of the unidentifiables might’ve been eggplant. Or another species of ocean invertebrate.

“Well?” said Mary.

“You’re right.”

“The magic words. Now teach my boyfriend how to pronounce them.”

When she left again, I said, “Even if Enid’s renting, she probably pays for some utilities under her own name.”

He groaned. “So damn obvious — too late to call the power companies, I’ll try in the morning.” Pizza vanished down his gullet, washed down with the second whiskey and iced tea. “Any other wisdom you’d care to share? Pick your topic — including my horoscope.”

“You feeling out of cosmic alignment?”

“The oracle in the paper says it’s my month to be charming and sociable but I ain’t feeling it.”

I smiled, though I wasn’t feeling it, either. Plagued by the intrusive thought I couldn’t shake.

No matter what had happened to three women, an eleven-year-old boy was out there somewhere.

One way or the other.

I finished the lousy beer, augmented with water because I’d be drinking wine with Robin. Lots of it.

My head still throbbed and my eyes were gritty when my private line rang at eleven twenty-five the following morning.

Milo said, “No dice. She pays for gas, electric, and water in Bel Air, but nowhere in the desert. On the off chance she goes through Loach, I did call the assistant. Guess what: Britnee’s not working there anymore and her replacement’s a temp who came across brain-dead.”

I said, “Too chatty and the boss found out?”

“I’m definitely going to connect with her. I also talked to Lorrie about an Alicia — Imelda romance thing. She says no way, Imelda was religious and conservative. But you never know. Bottom line: Enid made up a story and it’s bothering me more than it did yesterday. She wasn’t a suspect. Why lie?”

“People overreach when they’re nervous.”

“Exactly and I’m also liking your idea about liability. Her level of money could cause someone to do all sorts of things.”

“Covering her assets.”

He laughed. “In terms of a loony lurker, before I got to the office, I did a drive-by on St. Denis and neighboring streets, talked to a few residents and maids walking froufrou dogs. Everyone’s happy in 90077. One guy even thanked me for doing my job. Just to make sure, I combed through a year’s worth of incident reports in the entire old Bel Air area. A few burglaries but nothing psycho and the only prowler complaint was a bogus call from a spurned wife when her husband showed up to get his golf clubs.”

“Busy morning.” I popped my third Advil.

“The best kind,” he said. “I also located Britnee. Axed, disgruntled, and saying so on Facebook. I sent her a like on her rant, asked if she’d talk to me. She answered right away with a whole bunch of happy emoticons. She lives in the Fairfax area, likes modern dance and Thai food. Can’t do anything about the former but I found a place on Melrose. Couple of hours. That work for you?”

Britnee Leah Fauve was twenty-five, tall, leggy, blond with pink streaks, alluring in body-hugging black.

“Asshole,” she said, chopsticking a nugget of shrimp into a perfectly glossed mouth. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Milo said, “Mr. Loach.”

“Mr. Roach. He is a damn bug. Kept looking at my butt when he thought I couldn’t see but barely spoke to me. It’s like I was... decoration. I never got why he even needed an assistant, he’s in the office like once a week and doesn’t do much when he is there. I figured it would happen soon.”

“Getting fired?”

“Getting hit on. Didn’t have to deal with that on the job I had before. Then she died. My first boss.”

“Also a law firm?”

“No way, dental office. Dr. Regina Korovnick, DDS, old Russian lady, never smiled but all business. I started working for her right out of the U., was there for two years. Not exactly what I wanted for a career, I was a theater arts major. But if you don’t have a trust fund... Dr. Korovnick gave me responsibility. I ran her entire front office and if I worked late one day, she’d give me time off for an audition when I needed it.”

“Nice setup.”

“Then she had a stroke and the office closed down and I had nothing for four straight months, then I got stuck with him. His HR assholes put me on sixty days probation at sixty percent pay, no health plan. On day fifty-nine — three days ago — they ditched me. It’s a scam. You get peons to work cheap then ditch ’em. My boyfriend’s pre-law, he says I should sue.”

She looked at us for confirmation.

I said, “Did Loach give a reason for letting you go?”

“Loach never said anything, it came through the damn HR. Email. At night when they knew I wouldn’t see it until morning. Don’t come in tomorrow, we’ll be sending you a severance check for one week. Which so far they haven’t. ”

“Not nice,” said Milo.

“You think?” She sipped water. “Looking back maybe I should’ve expected it. Something happened the week before. I didn’t think it would come back and bite me but obviously it did.”

She picked at her food.

Milo said, “What happened, Britnee?”

Putting her chopsticks down, she gave a theatrical sigh and aimed deep-blue eyes at us. “It was kind of gross. Not that they shouldn’t be able to do it, I don’t discriminate against anyone. But be discreet, okay?”