Amy Thal rubbed the arm the cop had held. “I tried to explain to her that I knew you, had something to say. It’s not like I’m some lookyloo, this is my frickin’ neighborhood.”

“Sorry,” said Milo. “What’s up, Amy?”

“I saw another woman I didn’t recognize. Yesterday, jogging past this place at least three times.” Sniffing burnt air. “This is crazy, what’s going on, Lieutenant?”

“Tell me about the woman.”

“Blond, long hair, tight bod. She looked like a runner, at the time I didn’t think much of it but now I’m wondering. Because she kept running back and forth and why do that when there are all sorts of interesting runs you can take? I mean, cross the street and go by the Playboy Mansion, or Spelling’s old place, go down to Comstock and run around the park. Why keep passing back and forth? I mean it’s suspicious, right?”

“Three times,” said Milo.

“Three times I saw, Lieutenant, could’ve been more. I was in the living room, stretched out on the couch, reading. Generally, it’s real quiet, so anything that moves you notice. Yesterday, I saw a huge coyote, just ambling past, like he owned the street.”

“Was there anything strange about her?”

“She seemed kind of intense. But that’s runners, right? I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But now? What do you guys think?”

“We think we appreciate your coming forth, Amy.”

Boxmeister nodded. “Anything more you can say about what she looked like, ma’am?”

“Black tights, bare tummy, sports bra. Decent face, at least from a distance. Maybe real boobs but with a sports bra, I can’t be sure.”

Milo said, “What kind of blond?”

“Ultra,” said Amy Thal.

“Platinum?”

She nodded. “Long and shiny—and no ponytail like most girls do when they run. She just let that sucker flap in the breeze. Like ‘Look at me, I am soooo silky.’ She reminded me of that comedy thing a while back, my dad used to love to watch them, my mom always got pissed off because she thought it wasn’t humor that got his interest. The Swedish Bikini Team. I think they sold beer or something.”

Don Boxmeister said, “Old Milwaukee.”

Amy Thal said, “It was years ago, I was a kid. Dad loved them. This girl was like that. Okay, I’d better get on the horn, tell Mom and Dad to keep enjoying Paris.”

Milo thanked her. She gave his wrist a sudden squeeze, turned and left.

Boxmeister said, “Nice ass, like to do a hand-count of those freckles. Too bad her info’s useless. Hottie jogging in Holmby, big shock.”

“Don, the girl this prince is reputed to have offed was Swedish.”

“Oh …” Boxmeister’s smile was sheepish. “Back up the tape, erase. Our firebug’s a lady out for personal revenge? Then how do your first two vics figure in?”