My heart punched hard in my chest as the silence roared like the ocean. It roared even louder as I ran. I ran back through the house and out the French doors and all the way back to my car. It roared until I realized my cell phone was vibrating again. Bastilla was trying again. This time I answered.

Chapter 41

JONNA HILL sat in a pleasant beige room in the Mission Area Police Station at the top of the San Fernando Valley. She was as far from the eyes and ears downtown as Marx could hide her. It was a comfortable room with patterned wallpaper, where rape and abuse victims were interviewed. The feminine surroundings supposedly made it easier for victims to talk. We were watching her through a two-way mirror. She was alone now, toying with the cap from a water bottle. Jonna knew we were watching. Bastilla and Munson had spent almost two hours questioning her, but the pleasant surroundings hadn't helped. Jonna admitted nothing and refused to implicate Levy.

Munson rubbed his eyes, then leaned against the wall, frowning at me.

Are you sure it was Levy?

Yes.

Maybe it only sounded like Levy.

I said, It was Levy, Munson. I know Levy's voice.

Our side of the glass didn't have patterned wallpaper or comforting decor. The observation room was battleship-grey with a work desk butting the glass, metal chairs, and recording equipment. Pike and I stayed with Munson when Bastilla left to pick up the original death album pictures. Marx was in and out, phoning his contacts at Barshop, Barshop. They were doing everything themselves in order to stay under the radar.

Marx returned a few minutes later, holding his cell phone as if it were hot. He glanced at Munson as he entered.

She open up?

She's tough, man. Nothing.

Pike said, She believes him.

Munson rolled his eyes.

Oh, please, Pike. She's crazy.

I said, She might be crazy, but she believes Levy helped her punish the man who murdered her sister. She thinks they're on the same side.

Yvonne Bennett's police record and files were spread across the worktable. The psychiatric evaluation ordered at the time of her first arrest described a pattern of sexual abuse by the men her mother brought home. If those men had felt free to abuse Yvonne, they had probably tried to abuse her younger sister. I wondered if Yvonne had protected Jonna by offering herself to them. I stared at the broken heart on Jonna's forearm and thought it might be true.

She was always bad, and her bad ways caught up. Wasn't no better than a cat in heat from when she was little. I wouldn't even keep her picture up there if it wasn't for Jonna. She gets mad when I put it away.

Munson didn't buy it.

Well, it would be nice if she said something for the record. I still don't believe it. Wilts is our guy.