I said, "If he's a con man he'll be naturally suspicious, so I'm not sure you can avoid getting him wary. You could try telling him you've found some kids at the school who had conflict with Elise, figured if she confided in anyone it would be him."

"Which leads to an interesting point: Elise told Trey Franck about Martin but if she mentioned it to Fidella, he didn't pass that along. So either she felt closer to Franck or Fidella's keeping his cards under the table. If it's the latter, Fidella may be considering another extortion scheme."

"All the more reason to tantalize him with a possible link to the school. You're confirming his initial theory and making him feel like part of your team, as opposed to a suspect. He lets his guard down, you might learn something interesting."

"And Santa's on call twelve months a year." Yanking the fridge open for the third time, he scored a second slice of bread, deliberated, added a third. Pulled out a jar of boysenberry jam topped by a gingham-wrapped lid.

"Looks homemade. You guys going slow-food?"

"Robin's friend brought it."

Slathering both slices, he chewed noisily. "I'd love to see Fidella's spontaneous reaction to the mention of Franck's name. He gives off a serious tell, I've got a clear pathway to your basic crime of passion. But I can't risk showing my cards. Not that the odds like Uncle Milo. Unlike Sal, I never scored a jackpot."

"If you had, you might've held on to the dough."

"Well, look at that." He pinged the vase of flowers with a fingernail. "For the price of some stems and petals, I get therapy."

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER
23

The sky above Sal Fidella's block was moonlit, particle-clogged, heavy with mist. Houses and shrubs and trees appeared partially erased.

No Corvette in the driveway, dim yellow porch light over the door but no illumination from within.

Milo got out and rang the bell anyway, was greeted by the expected silence. Someone called "'Scuse me?" from across the street.

A man gestured from the lawn of a neatly kept ranch house.

Big man in T-shirt and shorts. Big shaggy dog on a leash sitting obediently at his side.

The dog studied our approach, dark, bear-like, unmoving but for intelligent eyes that cut through the haze.

The man was in his early thirties, bullnecked and crew-cut with a fuzzy chin-beard and the top-heavy physique of a silverback gorilla. "You're cops, right? I came out with Rufus and seen you." He hooked a thumb at Fidella's house. "What'd he do?"

Milo said, "What makes you think he did anything?"

"He didn't?"

"What's on your mind, sir?"

The man shifted his weight. The dog didn't budge. "Tell the truth, Officer, none of us likes him living so close."

"None of us being..."

"Me, my wife, also the Barretts--two houses down, they also got kids."

"You're worried about your kids?"