“No casings on record?”
“Nope, either someone picked up after themselves or it was a revolver.”
I said, “Patty’s gun was a semi-auto.”
“Would Patty be someone who’d pick up?”
I nodded.
“Well,” she said, “it’s probably nothing, tons of.22s floating around. Meanwhile, I search for Robert Fisk.”
She crossed her fingers.
Milo said, “We could all use some luck.”
CHAPTER 19
At six fifteen we pulled up in front of Tanya’s duplex. Over an hour of daylight left but the outdoor spots were on and the drapes were drawn.
The peephole on her door was covered by a tiny door. Before I knocked, it cracked an inch. A pale green eye inspected me.
“One second.” A bolt turned, then another.
She wore a pink buttondown shirt and a khaki skirt and held a plate of cookies. Big Daliesque chocolate-chip inventions, the chocolate soft and runny.
“I just got these out of the oven.”
Milo took one, finished it in two bites. “I like your style.”
“How about some coffee?”
While she was gone, he helped himself to another cookie. “Playing grown-up makes her feel in charge. Only reason I’m eating this is to be supportive.”
“That was my assumption from the beginning.”
He walked around the living room, parted the drapes, looked down at the street, took in the space. “Roomy.”
For a small girl.
Letting the curtains fall, he headed for the coffee table and examined Patty’s graduation photo.
Tanya returned with a mug of coffee and a wooden box. “Here it is.”
Milo wiped his hands and took the box. The interior was black foam with a gun-shaped cutout that cradled a small, blued pistol. He removed the clip. Empty. Dropped it into a Baggie and sniffed the weapon. “Oiled. Anyone use it recently?”
“Mommy took care of everything she owned, but I haven’t seen it for years.”
He shut the box, tucked it under his shoulder, reached for another cookie.
Tanya said, “You’re really not trying to match it to a specific crime?”
Milo looked at me.
I said, “An unsolved murder came up in the files. Another drug addict, a man who’d known Lester Jordan. He was shot a few blocks from your apartment on Cherokee with a.22 back when you lived there. There’s absolutely no reason to think your mom had anything to do with it. What’s more likely is this man and Jordan were both involved in a dope war. But let’s find out for sure so we can put your mind at ease.”
“My mind at ease? This is just-my God, it’s so weird!”
Milo said, “I don’t have to check if you don’t want me to.”
“No,” she said. “Do it, I want to know. Please.”
“As long as we’re here, does the name Robert Fisk mean anything to you?”
“No. Who is he?”
“An unpleasant fellow whose palm print was found on Lester Jordan’s windowsill.”
“You got him?” she said.
“No, we’re looking for him. Identifying him should speed things up.”
“Robert Fisk,” she said. “Has he killed other people?”
“Not that we know about.”
“Is there a good chance you’ll find him?”
“We’ll definitely get him.”
She turned away.
Milo said, “This whole idea of your mother doing something terrible has to be pretty upsetting. I’m sure it’ll come down to nothing.”
She focused past him, stared at the fireplace tiles.
He said, “Tanya, coming forth in the first place was extremely courageous. But like I just said, if you don’t want to continue, no harm, no foul.”
“That wouldn’t make you upset?”
“Not in the least. Officially, I’m on vacation. Give me the word and I go for the Hawaiian shirts.”
Her smile was feeble.
“Lester Jordan’s murder will be investigated fully by Hollywood Division, but anything to do with your mother has been and will continue to be unofficial.”
Silence.
“Whatever you want, Tanya.”
“I don’t know what I-” She turned, faced us. “I’m so sorry, I thought I could handle anything that came up but now that someone-two people-have actually been killed…”
“That is a tough reality, but there’s no reason to connect it to your mother.”
Her eyes filled. He handed her a napkin, eyed the cookies.
She said, “But what if something did happen?”
“Everything I’ve heard about your mother tells me she was a terrific person. The chances of her doing anything that could be remotely considered criminal are pretty godda-they’re darn low.”
Tanya dabbed a tear, bounced the heels of her hands together, let her arms drop. “When she told me, I felt her reason was protecting me. I only wish I knew from what.”
“Quite possibly nothing, she was sick,” said Milo.
Silence.
“We’re here to protect you now.”
She hung her head.
I said, “Tanya?”
“I was thinking of myself as a self-sufficient person-I’m sorry, thank you. Thank you so much. Would you like a cookie, too?”
“Sure.”
She passed the tray to me, then Milo. He began to refuse, changed his mind. The third cookie went down in one bite.
“Another?” said Tanya.
“No, but they’re delish. Can I ask you a question about Kyle?”
She put the tray down. “What?”
“Did you end up talking to him again and if so, did he say anything about his uncle?”
“We spoke briefly. I had a class and he had an appointment with his dissertation chairman. He told me he couldn’t honestly grieve because he barely knew Jordan. He felt his mother might take it hard because Jordan was her only sibling, but he wasn’t sure, because she never mentioned Jordan. We talked some more about that-the whole sib thing-and then I had to go.”
I said, “Some more?”
“That’s what we discussed during our first lunch. Kyle’s an only child, just like me. There were aspects we both liked, others we didn’t. For me the bad part was not having someone to play with. Kyle feels he’s at risk for being selfish so he makes an effort to be altruistic-feeding the homeless, giving a portion of his trust fund to charity each year.”
“Nice guy,” said Milo, gobbling a fourth cookie. “These are great.”
“It’s just a mix.”
“Hey,” he said, “take all the credit and none of the blame.”
Her smile was weary.
“You okay here, by yourself?”
“I’m fine,” she said, looking to me for support.
I said, “Tanya’s good at asking for help when she needs it.”
Milo said, “Smart thinking. But if you need help, just ask.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
At the door: “You’re a good person, Lieutenant Sturgis.”
Color spread under Milo’s ears.
Tanya said, “Is it still okay for me to talk to Kyle?”
“Unless he gives you a reason not to,” said Milo.
“Like what?”
“If he gets weird. Has he asked you out?”
“No, nothing like that. You really think you’ll find this Fisk pretty soon?”
“Everyone’s looking for him. Speaking of which, here’re a couple of other names: Rosie and Blazer Pain.”
“Who are they?”
“Two guys Fisk hung out with.”
“Blazer Pain? That sounds more like a band than a person.”
I said, “Robert Fisk considers himself a dancer and his pal Rosie deejays, so maybe there is a music connection.”
“A dancer?” she said. “But he killed someone?” Shuddering. “Once you’ve done something like that, how could you ever live with yourself?”
Milo reached for the doorknob. “I imagine it could be tough.”
Placing the gun box in the trunk of the Seville, he slumped in the passenger seat.
“Dropping the whole Patty thing is like putting toothpaste back in the tube. What’s the official shrink position on falsehood and perfidy?”