“Just came from her place, sir.”
Teague’s smile died. Suspicion slitted his eyes. “She probably told you I was an asshole.”
“We didn’t discuss you,” said Milo. “Only Lauren. And by the way, Lauren was enrolled at the U.”
“Yeah? Well, look where that got her.” Teague sat back in the recliner. The footrest shot out, and he stretched his legs. The soles of his feet were black and callused. He breathed in, let the air out. Beneath his rib cage his belly swelled. “I know you think I’m an asshole. ‘Cause I’m not faking out that everything was cool between me and Lauren. But at least I’m honest. Okay, so Lauren was in school. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t still hanging around with low life. You won’t hear that from my ex—she’s living in a dreamworld, Lauren was some angel— How’d she take it?”
“Hard,” said Milo. “Any contact between you and your ex?”
“Same as Lauren. Every so often, she used to call, throw it in my face.”
“When was the last time?”
Teague thought. “Years ago.” His smile was reborn. “It’s not like she’s gonna come visit the kids. That pisses her off—my having kids. She and I tried real hard to have a bunch and all we could squeeze out was Lauren. Clear to see it was her problem— Anyway, check out Lauren’s lifestyle, that’s my suggestion. She was living the life, riding high on the wave. But it wasn’t for free.”
“Few things are,” said Milo.
“Wrong,” said Teague. “Nothing is.”
11
“A PRINCE AMONG men,” said Milo.
I was driving east on Ventura Boulevard. Blackened storefronts, bare sidewalks, a breeze had kicked up, and scraps of litter danced above the cement. Warm breeze. Unseasonal winter.
“He hated her, didn’t he, Alex?”
“You consider him a suspect?” I said.
“Can’t eliminate him. Am I the only one who picked up nuances of paranoia?”
“Unhappy man,” I said. “Lots of anger. But he didn’t try to soft-pedal. Doesn’t that imply nothing to hide?”
“Or he’s trying to be clever, pull some kind of stupid double bluff. What a family. The more I learn, the sorrier I feel for Lauren.”
I knew what was taking place: Lauren’s corpse had begun as business as usual, inanimate as the mountain of forms he was forced to fill out on every case. Enlarging her humanity brought out his empathy. It’s happened to him on most of the cases we’ve worked together.
I said, “You didn’t ask him where he was the night Lauren was killed.”
“I don’t know when she was killed—waiting till the coroner gives me an estimate. Also, there was no sense threatening him right off. If nothing else slam-dunks, he’ll get a recontact. Maybe I can pay him a morning visit, see what he’s like when he’s not beered up.”
“And the shotgun’s not within arm’s reach.”
“Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it? Loose cannon like that having access to a double-barrel. Just what the Founding Fathers had in mind. . . . Wifey number two seemed quite the sheep. Think he slaps her around?”
“He dominates her.”
“I wonder if Lyle and Jane had violent stuff going on when they were hitched—Jane kept saying he was mean. Maybe something else Lauren was exposed to. That never came out when you treated her?”
“She complained about them but never mentioned violence. But the treatment wasn’t much.”
“Two sessions.” He rubbed his face. “Twenty-five years old and what did she have to show for it besides a nifty wardrobe? . . . People and their garbage. Some jobs you and I’ve got.”
“Hey,” I said. “Sure beats being rich and relaxed.”
He laughed. “You won’t catch me admitting this again, but your gig just might be tougher than mine.”
“Why’s that?”
“I know what people are. You try to change ’em.”
As I turned onto Laurel Canyon, he phoned the officer at Lauren’s apartment, found out Andrew Salander hadn’t returned.
I said, “He works the night shift.”
“You up for The Cloisters?”
“Sure,” I said. “One of my favorite spots.”
He laughed again. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Ever been to a gay bar?”
“You took me to one,” I said.