He tried DMV again, inquiring about Michael Ferris Burke, Grant Rushton, Huey Mitchell, Hank Spreen, with no success. We’d been sitting for a few minutes, alternating between silence and dead-end suggestions, when a small red car drove up and parked across the street.
Nissan Sentra, dark-haired woman at the wheel. She turned off her engine, started to get out when she saw us. Then she flashed a nervous stare and up went the driver’s window.
Milo was out in a second, jogging over, flashing the badge. The Nissan’s window stayed up. He produced his business card, I saw his lips move, finally the glass lowered. As if in appreciation, Milo backed away, gave the woman space. She exited the red car, looked at me, then at Milo. He had his hands in his pockets, was making himself a bit smaller, the way he does when he’s trying to put someone at ease. I joined them.
The woman was in her thirties, slightly heavy, brown hair highlighted with rust, sooty shadows under her bright-blue eyes and a speck of mascara under one of them. She wore a bulky white cowl-neck T-shirt, black leggings, black flats. The rear of the car was filled with fabric samples in binders.
“What’s wrong?” she said, eyeing the white house.
“Do you live in the neighborhood, ma’am?”
“My sister does. Across the street.”
“Ms. Stratton?”
“Yes.” Her voice strained half an octave higher. “What’s going on?”
“We came to ask your sister and Mr. Ulrich some questions, ma’am.”
“About what happened—about their finding Dr. Mate?”
“Your sister talked to you about that, Ms….”
“Lamplear. Kris Lamplear. Sure, we talked about it. It wasn’t exactly an everyday thing. Not in detail, Tanya was grossed out. She called me to tell me they found it— him. Is there some problem? Tanya’s already been through a lot.”
“How so, ma’am?” said Milo.
“She was sick a year and a half ago. That’s why I’m here. She was sick and I’m overprotective. She doesn’t like me to be, but I can’t help it. I try to give her space, usually we talk only two, three times a week. But I haven’t heard from her in a few days, so I called her at work Friday and they said she’d taken some vacation time. I held off yesterday, but today …”
She frowned. “She’s entitled to her vacation, but she should’ve told me where she was going.”
“Does she usually?” I said.
Sheepish smile. “Honestly? Not always, but I don’t let that stop me. What can I say? I decided to stop by this morning early, ’cause my kids have Little League in an hour. Just to make sure everything’s okay. So there’s no problem, you just want to talk to her?”
“Right, just following up, ma’am,” said Milo. He eyed the fabric samples. “Interior-design work?”
“Fabric sales. I work for a jobber downtown.” Another glance at the house.
Milo said, “Looks like they’ve been gone for only a day or so. Do they travel a lot?”
“From time to time.” Kris Lamplear’s eyes jumped around. “Paul probably took her somewhere on one of his impulsive romantic things.”
“He’s a romantic fellow?”
“He thinks he is.” She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Spontaneous. He’ll come in and announce they’re going to Arrowhead or Santa Barbara for a couple of days, tells Tanya to pack, call in sick. Tanya’s ultraresponsible. She takes her job seriously. But she goes along with him, usually. He works for himself, so taking off like that’s no big deal. He likes nature stuff, loves to drive.”
“Nature stuff,” said Milo.
“The great outdoors, he’s a member of the Tree People, the Sierra Club, watches birds, actually reads the auto-club magazine. It was his idea to be up there on Mulholland at that hour. He’s always pushing Tanya to rise and shine, exercise, all that stuff. As if that’s going to do the trick.”
“Do what trick?”
“Heal her up,” she said. “Make sure she stays in remission—she had cancer. Hodgkin’s disease. The doctors said it was curable, she’s got a good chance of being cured. But the treatment knocked her out. Radiation, chemo, heavy-duty. The whole thing changed her. She is fine, I know she’ll be okay, but I’m sorry, I’m still the protective older sister, so sue me. She should at least tell me where she’s going, don’t you think? Our parents are gone, the two of us are it, she knows I worry.”