Tight face. She licked her lips repeatedly. Glancing at her watch, she patted her hair again, tugged at her blouse, ran a finger across her lower lip. Inspecting the digit, she rubbed it against a trouser leg. Then she locked her car, took a deep breath, threw back her shoulders, and marched grimly toward the motel’s entrance.

Thinking about sins of the flesh? Or had the concept lost its punch?

* * *

She reemerged alone forty-five minutes later. Still tense, slightly hunched, the way she’d been the first time I’d met her. Arms clamped close to her body. Racewalking to the Corolla, she backed out, sped away.

I let her go and waited.

Malley appeared after nine minutes. His hat was in his hand, his walk was loose and easy, and he smoked a long, thin cigar.

I followed him onto the 134 West. A mile or so later, he switched to the 5 North; when he got on Cal 14 twenty miles later, I lowered my speed and put a couple of eighteen-wheelers between us. He was pushing eighty-five and the next twenty-three miles were consumed like fast food. When he got off at the Crown Valley exit, I kept going, took the next exit, got back on the freeway, and headed back toward L.A.

Like Milo had said: This was his turf, nowhere to hide.

* * *

I was home by one p.m. My cell calls to Milo’s house had been answered by his machine. He wasn’t at his desk.

Allison would be working for another couple of hours. The plan was we’d get together at five, maybe see a movie. I fed the fish, tried to relax, got on the phone again.

Milo said, “Hey.”

“Malley does leave his house,” I said. “All he needs is a bit of motivation.”

I told him what I’d seen.

He said, “This changes everything.”

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 27

At two p.m. Milo strode through the front door that I’d left open. Grabbing an orange juice carton, he said, “I need fresh air.” We went down to the pond.

“I was trying to be well-adjusted,” he said. “As in sniff the petunias. Rick was off so we went walking in Franklin Canyon, then grabbed some brunch at Urth Café. All the beautiful folks, and me for contrast.” He touched his gut. “Whole grain waffles— kind of takes the fun out of overeating.”

He tipped the juice carton to his lips.

I said, “Sorry to spoil your leisure.”

“What leisure? Rick got called to stitch up a kid who fell out of a tree and the whole time I was thinking about the case and faking mellow.” He tossed food pellets at the water, muttered, “Come to Uncle Milo.” The koi swarmed and splashed. “Nice to be appreciated.”