‘I don’t know the exact details. I mean, I never really knew Martina at school – she always hung out with different people to me – but we both dropped out in ’81 and ended up working in the same Kmart up in Temple City the year after. Total coincidence. Anyway, then we started talking sometimes, lunch breaks, on the way out at the end of our shift, and sometime after that she started telling me things …’

‘About Adrian Vale?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What about him?’

‘She started off by asking me if I remembered him from school, and I said I did, just about. She said they met again, end of ’81; bumped into each other at some drugstore down in East LA and then went out for a while after that. Like I say, we weren’t buddies – we didn’t know each other that well – but even I could tell she wanted to talk about it. She obviously wanted to get it out. Like, what’s that word? Articulate. She wanted to articulate it. I guess maybe it was easier doing it in front of someone like me that she didn’t know; basically, a stranger. Or maybe she was like Adrian used to be: quiet, lonely, didn’t have many friends. Maybe that was why those two ended up together in the first place. Whatever. I don’t know. All I know is she wanted it out.’

‘Out?’

‘She wanted to exorcize that shit.’

‘And what shit was that?’

‘The shit he pulled on her up at the lake.’

‘Are you a mom, Detective?’

Jo glanced at Valeria.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Are you a mom?’

She was looking at Jo’s wedding band.

‘I am, yes.’

‘I thought so. I admire what you’re doing.’

‘What I’m doing?’

‘This job. It must be a difficult job when you have a child.’

Jo shrugged. ‘Every job is hard when you’re a mom.’

‘You know, you can always tell.’

‘Tell what?’

‘You can tell a mom, just from the way she looks.’

‘Yeah?’ Jo frowned. ‘How’s that?’

‘We can never quite let go of the worry.’

Valeria smiled, her expression changing, making it difficult for Jo to interpret that comment. Was it just a general remark? Or was it some sort of coded message?

Just then, they both heard a car pulling on to the driveway, the rumble of old, loose bricks under its tyres, the tick of its engine. Valeria shuffled to the edge of her armchair and hauled herself out of it. ‘That’ll be Adrian,’ she said, going to the security door. Jo stood, watching from the living room, as a rust-speckled minivan pulled in.

‘What lake was this?’

‘Big Bear.’

‘Okay. So what happened?’