“Not a word, all she did was smile. Kind of a spaced-out smile.”

I said, “As if she was on something?”

Her mouth twisted unpleasantly. “The thought occurred to me.”

“You’ve noticed that before in Stevie’s friends.”

She trudged to a chair, sat down. “You’re cops, you knew right away what I meant about the neighbors worrying. Stevie’s had a substance abuse issue since fourteen. His dad spotted it, Glenn thinks like a cop, maybe too much like a cop. He’s in Eye-rack now, as a contractor. Doesn’t even tell me what he does.”

I said, “Glenn knew what to look for.”

“I used to think he was being paranoid but he was right. He confronted Stevie immediately and there was hell to pay.” Slumping. “It wasn’t an easy time for our family. Stevie wasn’t the least bit remorseful. His excuse was everyone did it. Including Brett—his older brother. That got Brett mad and the two of them nearly beat each other senseless. Glenn watched, I nearly fell apart.”

She hugged herself. “Our dirty laundry doesn’t matter to you.”

Milo said, “Sounds like Stevie was a bit of a challenge as a kid.”

“The funny thing is, he started off as the easy one. It was Brett who gave us conniptions, he was a hellion from day one and Stevie was so sweet and quiet. When Stevie was little, I used to say thank God I’ve got one who sits. So now Brett’s an optometrist in San Dimas, has four kids, doing great. Sometimes I think they’re programmed from conception and we have no control over what happens to them.”

I said, “When did Stevie fall in with the wrong crowd?”

“Junior high. A real wrong crowd, it was like someone flipped a switch.” Her mouth trembled. “Unfortunately, we could never figure how to flip the switch back. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. Or expense. One thing that really irritates Brett is all the money we’ve spent trying to help Stevie get his life together. So maybe that’s where Stevie met that girl.” She laughed. “Sorry, that was kind of confusing.”

I said, “Maybe he met her in rehab.”

She stared. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Glenn says it’s the dumbest thing, making a rehab buddy, druggies need to get away from other druggies. But the way she looked that day—spacey. Maybe, don’t you think?”

“Sure. How many rehabs have you paid for?”

“Three. After the third didn’t take, we said enough, Stevie needed to take responsibility.”

“Has he?”

“Well,” she said, “he seems to be supporting himself. He’s bright, you know. Tested way above average except for some problems paying attention. The high school counselor wanted to put him on Ritalin but Glenn said no way, the last thing a druggie needs is legal dope.”

Milo said, “What kind of work does he do?”