“I feel like a dumbass,” said Lobdell. “Here I am a cop, I’m supposed to know these things. The signs.”
“Nobody figures their seventeen-year-old is taking pills.”
Lucky sighed. “Shirley was upset. More than upset. Kevin made it worse, said he had no idea what the pills were, no idea how they got into his pants. I grounded him completely, for starters. I told Shirley I know a guy in narcotics detail-you know, Gant-who could come over and give Kevin a good shaking up. Really tell him what that shit can do to you. Kevin won’t listen to me or his mom, so I figure maybe a young guy like Gant can scare him straight. But Shirley says if I call the cops on my own son she’ll leave me and take Kevin with her. She’s serious. She really means it. I wasn’t going to have him arrested. That’s not what I meant at all.”
Nick steered up the steep, winding road.
“Gets worse,” said Lobdell. “Last night we sat Kevin down and asked him what was the reason for the pills. I mean, why was he taking that shit? And he says it’s because he hates us, his mom and me. Can’t wait to get out of the house. Hates the rules and the boredom and the homework and the chores and the teachers and me telling him what to do. Wants to be free. Says he’s packing up the second he turns eighteen, going to goddamned Humboldt or some such thing. You know what they got there-rain and dope. Plenty of both. Know what I said?”
“I have an idea.”
“I said fine, son. Do it. A young man should be free. I’ll wish you all the luck in the world. I’ll help you get a used car. They got a decent state college up there. I can send you off with my blessing and a little folding money. And Shirley-”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yeah. She hit the roof. Thinks I’m trying to kick him out. She’s yelling at me and I’m yelling at Kevin again and Kevin’s yelling at her and you know? That was the worst day of my life. I feel worse now than I did after hell week at the academy or that motorcycle wreck or the kidney stones back in sixty-four. I feel like I married a woman I don’t even know and had a kid I don’t even like.”
“I wish I had some advice.”
“That’s the last thing I need. I just wanted to hear myself complain. But Nick?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for giving some thought to my son.”
Nick glanced across at his partner. “You’re welcome.”
“And look at that damned house.”
Nick stopped in the middle of the driveway. The big house loomed on the hillside above them. Redwood and smoked-glass windows and river rock. Like something you’d see in the Colorado mountains, thought Nick. Two stories high, three chimneys, and what looked like a pool house off to one side.
“That’s another thing that pisses me off about these drug people,” said Lobdell, “is all the money they make off of kids like Kevin. Look at the size of that thing. The guy’s twenty-two years old.”
Nick drove slowly up the steep drive. There was another home a hundred yards off to the left and down. And one below it, almost out of view around the hillside. Besides that, just coastal scrub and prickly pear.
Bonnett’s rock, wood, and glass castle dominated the hill. Above the roofline Nick saw only sky and a redtail hawk gliding on a thermal. Felt the temperature creep up as they climbed. Up closer Nick saw a big garage with all three of the doors open. Two vehicles inside. A blue and white pickup truck in the driveway.
Then a swimming pool. A weight-lifting bench loaded with a heavy barbell beside the clean blue water. A row of four green chaise longues. A pool house behind.
They parked and followed a walkway past the pool. It curved through a small stand of yellowing cottonwoods and brought them to a redwood stairway that led up to a deck and the big double front doors. Peepholes in both doors but no windows. Windows on either side of the doors but the blinds were drawn tight.
Nick rang the buzzer and waited. Lobdell knocked.
They followed the deck around the house. The windows all had blinds and the blinds were drawn. The north wall of the house was dark with stain. Moss between the slats. But on the sunny exposures the redwood had turned silver-gray in the sun. Lizards stuck to the warm boards of the west wall. Nick looked out to the blue Pacific wedged between the brown canyon hills. Smelled the sage and eucalyptus and just a hint of ocean blowing into the canyon from the sea.
They walked down to the pool house. The sliding glass door of the house was open. Curtains wafted in and out in the canyon breeze. Nick rapped on the glass with his knuckles, said “O.C. sheriff’s deputies.”
The voice came at him close and strong. “Beat it.”
“We’re here to see Cory,” said Nick. Hand to his auto. Hammer of the gun caught on the lining of his sport coat. Nudged it away with his fingers.
“Ain’t here so beat it.”
Suddenly the curtains shot to the side. Big man right in front of Nick. Lobdell’s arm came from behind him,.45 leading the way. Nick jumped back and drew cleanly.
Guy in the window put his hands up. Eyes big. Shaking his head. “I don’t have a gun,” he said.
“Step outside,” said Nick. “Now.” His heart pounded and his hands had gone cold.
“Don’t shoot, man. I don’t have a gun.”
“Step outside,” said Nick. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Good. Easy. You can do it.”
Nick moved back and the man stepped from the pool house. Nick’s age-thirty or so. He was big, naked except for a swimsuit. Skin dark. Long black hair and a sharp little beard like a musketeer. Hands out but not up. A look on his face like he’d done this before and could strangle someone.
Lobdell turned him, looked him over, holstered his Colt. “Good way to get shot,” he said.
“I was asleep.”
“Middle of the day?” asked Lobdell. “Must have had a good night. What’s your name?”
“Dirk George. No outstandings, not using, not holding, not packing, not in the mood for cops.”
“I smell beer so at least you’re drinking,” said Lobdell.
“No law against that,” said Dirk.
“You house-sitting, Dirk?” asked Nick.
Dirk George looked at Nick. Still had the strangle look. “What’s it look like?”
“Answer the question,” said Nick.
“Cory’s gone, man. I don’t know where. I don’t care where. I’m staying in the pool house, watering the flowers. Keeping an eye out for the little piggies.”
Nick’s anger spiked. He looked at Lobdell, then back at Dirk. Dirk was all invitation. The let’s-fight look. You saw it in jail when you were young. Sometimes had to accept, just to make a point.
“We want to ask Cory a few questions,” Nick said.
“He isn’t here. The big house is locked up and nobody’s home.”
Something moved behind the curtains. Nick saw bare feet below the swaying fabric. Red nails. A silver ring on the left middle toe.
“Come on out, miss,” he said.
The girl hesitated, then pushed through the curtain and onto the patio. Janelle’s age, Nick guessed. Long blond hair. Beautiful suntanned skin. Blue eyes and freckles. A denim jacket with a rainbow embroidered on the pocket flap. Cutoff shorts.
Nick recognized her from Janelle’s memorial service. One of the girls who’d come with Jesse Black. Andy had told him her name. Gail.
“Hi, guys,” she said.
“See, we’re guys, not pigs,” said Nick. A flat stare at the man in the swimsuit.
She blushed and looked submissively at Dirk. Nick decided that if Dirk hurt her for what she said, he’d take it out of Dirk’s suntanned hide somehow.
“Will you come with me, please?” Nick asked her.
She looked at him with a distrusting innocence.
“You don’t have to, babe,” said Dirk.