“Lots of those on the Westside.”
“True.” Jumping up, he made it back to the fridge with two giant steps, grabbed a new quart of orange juice, popped the seal, began gulping. “But I’m still curious, so I call Stanford, locate Eric’s dorm, talk to his roommate, some kid named Chad Soo. What I manage to get out of him is that Eric was looking real depressed for a few days, then he didn’t come back to his room for a couple of days after that.”
“When?”
“Yesterday, but Chad didn’t call till this morning. Didn’t want to get Eric in trouble, but Eric had a big test he didn’t show up for and that wasn’t like Eric, so after the second day he thought maybe he should tell someone. He called the house, talked to Stacy.”
“He told you all this?”
“He was under the misconception that I was Palo Alto PD. So how come the kid gets depressed now, Alex? Nine months since his mother dies, but a week after Mate gets killed?”
“Mate’s death could’ve brought up memories,” I said.
“Yeah, well… that’s how I knew your morning was gonna be quiet. So Stacy never called?”
“I’m sure she will when things settle down.”
He drank more juice. I said, “Regarding the BMW, Ul-rich said he saw a smaller model, like his.”
“Yes, he did.”
I got up. “I’m going to try to reach Stacy. From my office.”
“Meaning I’m kicked out.”
“Meaning feel free to stay in the kitchen.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll wait.”
“Why?”
“Something about this family bugs me.”
“What?”
“Too secretive, too evasive. Doss has no reason to play games with me unless he’s got something to hide.”
I headed for the office. He called out, “Make sure you close the door all the way.”
Richard’s secretary used her boss’s very busy schedule as a weapon: the chance of talking to him today was less probable than the sudden achievement of world peace.
“I’m calling about Stacy,” I said. “Any idea where she might be?”
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“She didn’t show up for her appointment at eleven,” I said.
“Oh?” But she didn’t sound surprised. “Well, I’m sure there’s an explanation…. May I assume you’ll be billing us anyway, Doctor?”
“That’s not the issue. I want to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Oh … I see. Well, as I said, Mr. D.’s not here now.
But I did see Stacy a while back and she’s fine. She didn’t mention the appointment.”
“Richard made it. Perhaps he forgot to tell her. Please have him call me.”
“I’ll give him the message, sir, but he’s traveling on business.”
“Business as usual?” I said.
Pause. “We will honor your bill, Dr. Delaware. Bye now.”
Returning to the kitchen, I found myself hoping something—a sudden lead, anything—had spirited Milo away and I wouldn’t have to wear my calm mask. But he was still sitting at the table, finishing the juice, looking too damn smug for someone working a whodunit with no clues.
“Bellyful of double-talk?” he said.
I shrugged. “So what’s next?”
“More of the same, I guess…. Doss is an interesting one. Little man behind a gigantic desk, his chair’s elevated on some kind of pedestal. I’ll bet he’s one of those guys who believes intimidation is the ultimate orgasm. The power of positive domination. Yeah, I’ve definitely got to take a closer look at him.”
“What about Roy Haiselden and Donny Mate?”
“Still looking for them, too. I lucked out and found Haiselden’s gardener mowing the lawn. Haiselden didn’t tell him to stop showing up.”
“Keeping up appearances,” I said.
“The utilities are also still on. Only the mail’s been cut off. Waiting in the Westwood branch, general delivery. And Alice Z. was telling the truth about Haiselden being into laundromats. He’s the registered owner of six, mostly on the Eastside—El Monte, Artesia, Pasadena.”
“Collecting coins can be a dangerous business. Did he do it himself?”
“Don’t know yet. All I’ve got is his business registration. Roy Haiselden d.b.a. Kleen-U-Up, Inc. As far as Donny Mate goes, there was no parole, he served his full sentence, was let straight out. Petra’s asking about him. Thanks for brunch.”