Milo kept his smile on simmer. “Where are Ashley and Marissa, Laura?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

“There’s no need for—”

“You thi-ink?” she said. “I don’t have to talk to you. Cops messed me uh-up.”

“Sorry to hear that, but if you could—”

“Cops li-ed, I had to do community service in Wah-atts.” Turning to the boy in the trash, she said, “Totally bogus.”

He’d managed to grow even more glazed, didn’t answer.

“Hey!” She went over and snapped her fingers in his face.

He said, “Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Mega-boge.”

Milo said, “Sorry you got hassled but this is about Ashley and Marissa’s mom. You know what happened to her, right?”

Internal power-struggle as the girl tried to muster boredom. Most of her succeeded but her eyes failed.

Quick blinks, suddenly dilated pupils. Emotional interest in the topic. Finally: “Yeah, so?”

“So I know they’d want you to talk to us.”

“Cops lie. You coulda ruined my frikkin’ life.”

“Mrs. Corey lost her life, Laura. So if you could just—”

“How do I know you’re not shitting and this isn’t … whatever.”

“Hey,” said the boy, lifting the glass bong out of the bag.

“Get out of here,” she screamed. Facing Milo: “No frikkin’ way, you can’t come in without a warrant.”

“Laura, I couldn’t care less about—”

“No, no, I don’t have to take it, I don’t, it’s my rights.” Sucking in breath. “You need to go.”

“Actually, I don’t,” said Milo, scuffing his way closer. “This is Marissa and Ashley’s residence, you’re here with no explanation, for all we know you’re trespassing.” To the boy: “What’s your name and how’d you get here?”

“Uh.”

“Uh may be your philosophy but it ain’t your name. Cooperate.”

“Jared. I met her.”

“Jared what?”

“LoPrinzi.”

“Who’s her?”

“Her.” Glance at Laura.

“When did you meet her?”

“Uh last night.”

Milo turned to Laura. She said, “I’m not saying nothing.”

Back to Jared: “Find your clothes and get out of here.”

“Uh they’re in back.”

Milo prodded the boy toward the rear of the apartment, leaving me alone with Laura. I tried a therapeutic smile. She crossed her arms over her chest and whispered something unpleasant. I turned to scanning the junk on the floor. Interesting stuff began to pop up; another bong, little plastic Baggies specked with white. Stare long enough and mastodon bones would probably emerge.

Jared LoPrinzi returned with Milo trailing, wearing a Foo Fighters T-shirt, jeans, and motorcycle boots. After he was gone, Laura looked even smaller.

Milo said, “Enough messing around. Ms. Smith, I could take you in right now for questioning.”

Fear passed over the girl’s face. She fought it with indignation. “Bullshit, they asked me not to say.”

“The girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you here?”

“They asked me that, too.”

“Why?”

“To take care of the place.”