He shrugged. The shower stopped.
“Okay,” he said. “Till we clear this up, priority one is keeping her safe. If she manufactured this, the worst thing is I get snookered. So where do I stash her? She says she’s got no close friends and no family other than him.” Glancing at the picture on the TV. “And he is a junkie, by the way.”
“I know,” I said. “His father told me.”
“When did you speak with him?”
“Yesterday. I tried to get hold of you to tell you. I have some other stuff to talk about too, but let’s figure out what to do with Lucy first.”
“I could put her in a hotel, but any place above a fleabag is gonna eat into her money pretty damn fast.”
“What about Ken? He’s in real estate—deals with distressed properties. Even if he doesn’t have anything himself, he might know of a low-cost, short-term rental. Here or up in Palo Alto. Maybe she should go out of town for a while.”
“It’s a thought,” he said. “She talked about him a little, wanting to thank him for saving her but not knowing how to approach him. How weird it was having a brother she didn’t know. Then she changed the subject to the Puckster. Worried that he hasn’t called.”
“Worried, not angry?”
“Worried. I got the feeling she’s been worrying about him for a long time.”
“I’m sure she has,” I said. “She say anything more about him?”
“No, and I didn’t push. . . . Okay, can you reach Ken?”
“I’ve got his card.”
The bedroom door opened and Lucy came in the room, toweling her hair.
“Definitely nothing else missing,” she said. “My stuff’s all intact.”
“Good,” said Milo. He got up and held out a chair for her.
CHAPTER
18
“Another trial,” she said. “Carrie’s poor parents going through it again—all the families. You really think those horrible girls could be behind this?”
“We don’t know,” said Milo. “But publicity’s their meat. That’s why we want to keep you safe and do it quietly.”
“My—” She bit her lip.
“What, Lucy?” I said.
“The . . . oven. I’d been starting to wonder if I really—but do you think someone could have done that to me? Drugged me somehow? Remember how I mentioned feeling drugged to you, a couple of sessions ago?”
I nodded.
“I thought I was just tired,” she said. “Too much work, not enough sleep. But—could it be?”
“Anything’s possible,” I said.
She raised her knees to her chin. Her arms were around her legs and her body looked very small. “Well, do what you need to get to the bottom of it. Don’t worry about me, I’ll handle whatever comes along.”
“Publicity would mean more than just a new trial,” I said. “Instant celebrity, including the three days you spent at Woodbridge.”
That made her flinch. “Oh . . . the crazy juror . . . oh, boy.”
Looking at Milo.
He said, “I’m going to fingerprint your apartment myself instead of calling in the lab. It’ll take longer, but I’ll be able to keep it under wraps. Depending upon what I find, we’ll take it from there. Has anyone visited you recently?”
“No. No one.”
“I’ll also find you a temporary place for the next day or so. After that, we thought we’d ask Ken to look into something ’cause he’s in real estate. You okay with that?”
“Guess so. Sure.” To me: “Would he want to?”
“At the hospital he mentioned wanting to meet you. Though I’m sure he’s a little nervous about it.”
She smiled. “Like I’m really scary.”
“The unknown is scary.”
The smile faded.
She began packing, and I returned to Malibu and called Ken’s office. No secretary. I spoke to his answering-machine tape, and he came on the line as soon as I mentioned my name.
“Hi, doc, what’s up?”
I told him.
“Someone broke in?”
“Lucy said she found the door open when she came home.”
“Shit. I bet I left it open. I was in such a hurry to get her to the hospital—”
“No, the lock was fixed after that, and the handyman claims the door was locked. So either he was careless or someone jimmied it.”