Suddenly, the girl’s eyes grew merry. “That sounds just like on TV.”
“Then it’s got to be real, right?”
She gazed up at Milo, then back at me. “I’ve never met an actual detective.”
“Oh, it’s a real big deal. Somewhere between the Pulitzer and the Nobel.”
The girl squinted at him. “You’re funny. What do you want me to tell you about Professor Devane?”
“Your experience with the Interpersonal Conduct Committee.”
The narrow mouth twisted.
Milo said, “I know it’s hard to talk about, but—”
“No, it’s not really hard. Not anymore. ’Cause it’s over. Kenny and I have resolved things.”
We kept walking. A few steps later, she said, “Actually, we’re dating.”
Milo made a noncommittal sound.
“No doubt it sounds bizarre to you, but it’s working for us. I guess there was some . . . chemistry between us. Maybe that’s what caused all the initial conflict. Anyway, it’s all worked out.”
“So Kenny knows you’re talking to us.”
“Sure, actually he—” She stopped herself.
“He asked you to talk to us?”
“No, no. It’s just that I’m here in town and he’s down in San Diego, so we thought I could clear things up for both of us.”
“Okay,” said Milo. “What’s to clear?”
She shifted her book bag to another shoulder. “Nothing, really.” Her voice had risen in pitch. “It was a mistake. Filing a complaint. I should never have made such a big deal, but there were complications. Between Kenny and me—it’s a long story, not really relevant.”
“Your mom and his dad,” I said.
She looked at me. “So that came out, too.”
“There are transcripts of the sessions,” said Milo.
“Oh. Great.” She looked ready to cry. “I thought everything was supposed to be kept confidential.”
“Murder changes the rules, Cindy. But we’re doing all we can to keep it quiet.”
She exhaled and shook her head. “How blown-up is this going to get?”
“If it had nothing to do with Dr. Devane’s death, hopefully not at all.”
“It didn’t. At least Kenny’s and my thing didn’t.” She punched her chest. “God, I was an idiot for going along with it!”
I said, “Someone reading the transcript could get the impression you had a valid claim against Kenny.”
“Well, I didn’t. I told you, it was complicated. Yes, because of our parents. Not that Mom asked me to be her . . . defender. I just . . . I misread some cues. That’s all. Kenny didn’t behave himself perfectly, but he’s no animal. We could have worked things out. Proof is, we have.”
She shifted the bag again.
Milo said, “I’d offer to carry that for you but it’s probably not PC.”
She started to say something, then shot him an amused look and handed over the bag. In his hands it looked like a lunch sack.
Rolling her shoulders, she glanced back at the Village as we continued to stroll between the parked cars. “Is this going to take much longer?”
“Not much. Your mom and Kenny’s dad, how are they getting along?”
“Fine.”
“Dating again?”
“No! They’re just friends. Thank God. That would be—incestuous. That was a big part of the initial problem. Kenny and I didn’t realize the extent of the baggage. Plus his mother died a year ago. He’s still hurting.”
“What about his kicking you out of the car?”
Cindy stopped. “Please, Detective, I’d know if I was a victim.”
Milo didn’t answer.
She said, “That night, he—it was stupid. I demanded to get out, he opened the door for me, and I tripped.”
She laughed but she looked as if someone had died. “I felt like such a spaz. We needed to work on our communication, that’s all. The proof is empirical: we’re fine.”
“You’re a good student, aren’t you, Cindy?”
The girl blushed. “I work hard.”
“Straight A’s?”
“So far, but it’s just two quarters—”
“Kenny’s not much of a student, is he?”
“He’s very bright! It’s just that he has to find something that inspires him.” Licking her lips. “Some focus.”
“Motivation.”
“Exactly. People move at different paces. I’ve always known what I want to be.”
“What’s that?”
“A psychologist or an attorney. I want to work for children’s rights.”