situation. Claire did everything, feeding it, cleaning up after it. She was always trying to fix things-broken wings on bugs, anything. We knew she’d be some kind of doctor, I would’ve guessed a veterinarian, but psychologist was fine. She always got good grades-it doesn’t make sense, Detective Sturgis. At the morgue-what we just saw-I just don’t… It had to be a maniac-this Starkweather place is nothing but maniacs?”
“Yes, sir,” said Milo. “It’s the first thing we looked at. So far, no leads.
Apparently the inmates never get out.”
“Sure,” said Rob Ray. “Isn’t there always some screwup that lets someone out? Some stupid mistake?” Tears began coursing silently down the jelly of his cheeks.
“You’re right, sir,” said Milo. “But so far I haven’t come up with anything.”
His tone had gentled; suddenly he seemed like a much younger man.
“Well,” said Rob Ray. “I can tell you’re good people. Where you from originally?
Your folks, I mean.”
“Indiana.”
Satisfied nod. “I know you’re trying.”
Suddenly one log-arm moved with astonishing speed, slamming upward to the big man’s face, as he ground the handkerchief to his eyes.
“Oh, Rob,” said his wife, and she was crying again, too.
Milo went into the bathroom and brought them water.
Rob Ray Argent said, “Thanks, I’m supposed to drink a lot, anyway. For my joints, keep them lubricated.” Half a shrug made his sloping shoulders jiggle. He plucked shirt fabric out of a fat fold.
Milo said, “So Claire visited only on Christmas.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that since she moved to Los Angeles or since she went to graduate school in
Cleveland?”
“Los Angeles,” said Rob Ray. “When she was at Case Western she came home for
Thanksgiving, Easter, summers. She helped us out in the store, summers.”
“Once she moved to L.A., how often did she write?”
Silence.
“We’re phoners, not writers,” said Ernestine. “Long distance is so economical nowadays. We have one of those calling plans.”
I remembered Claire’s phone bills. No recent calls to Pittsburgh. Had she dialed her parents from the office? Or had she become a stranger to them? Adding them to the club of strangers we’d encountered at every turn?
“So she called,” said Milo.
“That’s right,” said Ernestine. “Every so often.”
Milo scribbled. “What about her marriage? And the divorce. Anything I should know about that?”
Ernestine lowered her eyes. Her husband took a long, noisy breath.
“She said she’d gotten married in Reno,” he said. “Soon after. One of her calls.”
“So she told you over the phone,” said Milo. “Did she seem happy about it?”
“I’d say yes,” said Ernestine. “She apologized for not telling us before, said it was one of those sudden things- love at first sight. She said the husband was a nice fellow. A lawyer.”
“But you never met him.”
“I’m sure we would’ve, but Claire didn’t stay married to him very long.”
Two years, no contact.
“So she visited on Christmas while she was married.”
“No,” said Ernestine. “Not during the marriage. Last Christmas she was divorced already.”
Milo said, “Did she explain why she got divorced?”
“She called after it happened, said she was fine, everything was friendly.”
“She used that word?” said Milo.” ‘Friendly.’ ”
“Or something to that effect. She was trying to reassure me. That was Claire. Take care of everyone else.”
She glanced at her husband. He said, “I know this sounds weird to you-our not meeting him. No big white wedding. But Claire always needed her freedom. She- It was-That’s just the way she was. Give her her freedom and she got straight A’s. She was always a good kid-a great kid. Who were we to argue? You do your best, who knows how your kids are going to turn out? She turned out great. We gave her freedom.”
Focusing on me during most of the speech. I nodded.
“We asked to meet him,” he said. “The husband. She said she’d bring him by, but she never did. I got the feeling it didn’t work too well from the beginning.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she never brought him out.”
“But she never actually complained about the marriage,” said Milo.
“She never said she was unhappy,” said Rob Ray, “if that’s what you’re getting at.