“He seemed eager to steer you to Meserve as a suspect,” I said. “That’s in his best interest if he’s covering for Billy, but it doesn’t mean he’s wrong. Michaela told me she hated Meserve and Mrs. Winograd heard them fighting more than once.”

“Any theory about Dylan’s motive? For Michaela and Tori.”

“Maybe he’s just a bad guy who picks off girls at acting class. He played death games with Michaela up in Latigo and if Michaela was being at all truthful, he planned a calculated hoax. Toss in Brad’s suspicions about gold digging and it doesn’t add up to a character reference.”

“Michaela tell you why she went from being naked in the hills with him to seeing him as the enemy?”

“At the time, I assumed she was dumping the blame on him as trial strategy.”

“Lawyer games.”

“Guess who her lawyer was. Lauritz Montez.”

“That guy from the Malley case? Thought you two had friction.”

“We did but I’m the biggest, baddest, smartest shrink in the whole wild world. Gee willikers.”

“He schmeared you and you bought it?”

“The case interested me.”

“That’s a good reason.”

“As good as any.”

“Mind talking to Montez again, see if Michaela had more to say about her partner in crime?”

“Don’t mind at all,” I said. I’d been thinking of doing it, anyway.

He pushed aside a half bowl of chowder. Waved for another beer, then altered it to a Coke.

The sixty-five-year-old barmaid laughed. “When did you ever have self-control?”

Milo said, “Don’t be cruel,” and she laughed some more and left.

I realized all the patrons were men. Wondered about that as Milo ticked an index finger. “Meserve, Peaty, Brother Billy. Investigation 101 teaches you to narrow the suspect pool. I seem to be doing just the opposite.”

“The search for truth,” I said.

“Ah, the agony.”

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

By eight fifty-three p.m., we were parked four blocks west of the PlayHouse. As we headed to the school on foot, Milo’s bulk slanted forward, as if marching into a blizzard.

Scoping out streets and driveways and alleys for Michaela Brand’s little black Honda.

The alert for the car had been expanded statewide. Milo and I had cruised these same streets just a few days ago, no reason to look now.

The ability to put logic aside sometimes makes for a great detective.

* * *

We got to the building at five after nine, found people milling.

Dim porch light allowed me to count as we neared the front steps. Eight females, five males. Each one slim, young, gorgeous.

Milo muttered, “Mutants,” as he bounded up the stairs. Thirteen pairs of eyes turned to watch. A few of the women shrank back.