Moe said, “We're not here to cause you problems. We know what your father did to you.” The plural pronoun came easy.
“That's in the past,” said Caitlin Frostig.
“It is, but it's still a crime.”
“I know, Detective Reed.”
“If you want to press charges-”
“I don't.”
“You're sure of that.”
“I am, Detective Reed. I've thought about it a lot and I don't.”
“We respect that, Caitlin. And we know how hard it would be. But what if your coming forward prevents the same thing from happening to another girl?”
“He'd never do that,” said Caitlin.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I know.” Grazing one of the trash cans with her fingers. She studied the sky some more. Took in the cracked stucco front of the bungalow. Tomato plants trimmed the front of the little house, used as ornamental shrubs. Cherry tomatoes. Caitlin Frostig walked away and Moe was sure he'd lost her.
Picking a handful of tomatoes, she returned to the brothers. “Hungry?”
Moe quelled reflexive denial, took the four little red orbs she was offering. Popped one in his mouth. “Delicious.”
“Mr. Fox?”
“Thank you… really tasty, Caitlin.”
She said, “In terms of other girls, what happened between my father and myself was what psychologists call a situation-specific dynamic. My mother died when I was young. My father had no one and I became a substitute. I'm not saying it was right. But it won't happen to anyone else.”
Pronounced with clarity. Clinical detachment. Either she'd dealt with it and was ready to move on. Or the healing hadn't even begun.
Moe said, “I'm so sorry for what you went through.”
“Thank you… will it be necessary to tell him where I am?”
“Not if you don't want him to know.”
“I don't.”
“Then our lips are sealed.”
“Thank you so much.” Moving forward as if to kiss Moe's cheek, she stopped herself. “Would you like more tomatoes? They've grown like crazy, I'll get you a bag, take some for the road.”
Nice way to say please leave.
Moe said, “We'd like that.”
CHAPTER 48
During the ride back to L.A. the brothers ate tomatoes and listened to music and didn't talk much.
Well before the transition to the 405 South, Moe said, “If you don't mind, stay on the 101 and take Laurel.”
Aaron said, “Making a detour to Swallowsong?”
“Drop me at Liz's. She lives on Fuller near Melrose.”
“No prob.”
Midway down the canyon: “Moses, we did okay.”
“It worked out.”
“This was beyond whodunit,” said Aaron.
Moe said, “Way beyond… Mom called yesterday night. I assume she called you, too.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Moe allowed himself a smile. “Kosher sausages are so yesterday. Welcome to organic, grass-fed bison. Ever have that?”
“Nope. She bought half an animal.”
“Buffalo Mom.”
Aaron said, “An eight-thousand-dollar barbecue grill. You believe that?”
Moe thought: Actually, sounds like something you'd like. Oh, yeah, you never cook. “Can you see her wearing one of those aprons, breathing in all that smoke?”
Aaron laughed. “Not easily… I thought I'd go. Make her feel good.”
Moe said, “No sense not going.”
“See you there, then.”
“Yeah.”
Aaron glanced at his brother. Moe was back to his serious self.
He could live with that. The two of them existed in a seismic world. Too much movement could crack the surface.
At Sunset, Moe said, “I appreciate it. Going out of your way and dropping me off.”
“Who says it's out of my way?”
“It's not?”
“Who knows?” said Aaron, smiling. “Another big-time whodunit.”
“Either way, thanks,” said Moe. “Bro.”
Moments later, Aaron watched as a beautiful black woman came out of her condo and greeted his brother with the warmest smile he'd ever seen. Cries of delight, big hug, a lingering kiss that would have embarrassed Moe if Aaron had stuck around to see all of it.
CHAPTER 49
The air was warm but Aaron put up the top on the Porsche for the climb back up Laurel.
Wanting quiet as he phoned Merry Ginzburg and told her what she needed to know about Mason Book.
Parceling out appetizers, what amounted to a picayune scandal. The red meat, she didn't need to know.
With Ax Dement maintaining his loyalty, Book's name would never appear on any court papers. Wouldn't be associated in any way with drug use, suicide, the murder of the woman he'd helped lure to her death.
Aaron had spent some time with Book, was convinced Book really had been an unwitting dupe. Was certain the hourly fee for babysitting the actor wasn't influencing his opinion.
Liana agreed. Book didn't impress her. The man in her life was some number-crunching Ph.D. Aaron would have to check out.
Even the little he gave Merry was enough to rejuvenate her career. Maybe put some big bucks in Aaron's pocket if he played it right.
She said, “So I was right. He starves himself.”
“Almost died, Mer.”
“Thank you, Denzel.”
“Don't I always come through?”
Sigh. “You do.”
“Let's have dinner.”
“A pity meal?” she said. “That's sweet, but no thanks.”
“A good meal,” said Aaron. “No business.”
“That's impossible, my dear. For both of us.”
“You never know.”
“True,” said Merry. “Older I get, the less I get.”
Mr. Dmitri said, “How much do I owe you?”
“I have to add it up.”
Dmitri returned to his Russian newspaper. The factory was buzzing. On the way to the boss's office, Aaron had made sure to pass Maitland Frostig's cubicle. Frostig was away from his station.
Dmitri looked up, as if surprised Aaron was still there. “Thank you, Mr. Fox. I will call you when the next problem arises.”
“I'm looking forward to it, sir.” Aaron sat there.
Dmitri put the paper down. “What, Mr. Fox?”
“Sir, this may be presumptuous, but I'm getting the feeling that what I learned about Caitlin doesn't surprise you.”
Dmitri smiled.
“I also noticed that Mr. Frostig wasn't at his desk.”
“Probably in the bathroom,” said Dmitri. “Tomorrow there will be another explanation for his absence.”
“Sir-”
Dmitri laughed. “I am not Russian Mafia, Mr. Fox. Maitland's work product has been poor. He will be terminated.” Chuckle. “His position at the company will be terminated. What happens to him is no longer any concern of mine. Did I ever tell you what my wife does?”
“She's a psychiatrist.”
“ Regina is excellent psychiatrist. In Moscow she was head of hospital that specializes in sexual deviancy. Before they imprisoned her for not poisoning dissidents. She is woman of great insight.”
“I see.”
Dmitri fingered his mega-Rubik's. “I see numbers, she sees people. I am proud of her.”
“You should be.”
Dmitri's eyes twinkled. “I'm thinking, Mr. Fox, I should be proud of you, too.”
Jonathan Kellerman
Jonathan Kellerman is one of the world's most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a child psychologist to numerous bestselling tales of suspense (which have been translated into two dozen languages), including thirteen previous Alex Delaware novels; The Butcher's Theater, a story of serial killing in Jerusalem; and Billy Straight, featuring Hollywood homicide detective Petra Connor. His new novel, Flesh and Blood, will be published in hardcover in fall 2001. He is also the author of numerous essays, short stories, and scientific articles, two children's books, and three volumes of psychology, including Savage Spawn: Reflections on Violent Children. He and his wife, the novelist Faye Kellerman, have four children.