the twoof them could be using hers
“Sounds nice.”
I told him about driving up to Latigo, left out the rest of my motor tourand the memories it had evoked.
He said, “No kidding. I was up there myself, early in the morning. Pretty,no?”
“And out of the way.”
“I talked to a few neighbors, including the old guy Michaela scared when shejumped out naked. No one had ever seen her or Meserve there before. Also, I gotMr. Albert Beamish on the phone this morning. Saturday and Sunday he spends athis place in Palm Desert. Sunshine didnothing for his disposition. What he was itching to tell me was he spottedNora’s Range Rover leaving her house Friday around nine.”
“Right after our meeting at Brad’s house.”
“Maybe Brad advised her to take a vacation. Or she just felt like some downtime and didn’t bother to tell her students because she’s an indolent richgirl. I asked Beamish to keep an eye out, thanked him for being observant. Hebarks back at me, ‘Show your gratitude by doing your job with minimalcompetence.’”
I laughed. “Did his powers of observation lead to checking the Rover’soccupants?”
“If only. Meserve’s car still hasn’t shown up but if he’s with Nora, the twoof them could be using hers and stashing his. As in Nora’s garage, or the oneat the PlayHouse. Maybe I can pry a door and take a peek. On a whole othertack, Reynold Peaty is being true to his loser-loner self. Stayed in hisapartment all weekend. I gave Sean Sunday off because he’s religious, so it’spossible we missed something. But I did watch the place in the afternoon aroundfour.”
Missing me by a couple of hours. Again.
“Last and possibly least,” he said, “Tori Giacomo’s building has changedownership twice since she lived there. The original owners were a couple ofnonagenarian sisters who passed on naturally. The property went to probate, aspeculator from Vegas picked it up cheap then resold to a consortium ofbusinessmen from Koreatown. No records of any old tenants, the aroma offutility fills the air.”
“When are you heading over to Nora’s?”
“Pulling up as we speak…” A car door slammed. “I am now heading for herdoor. Knock knock—” He raised his voice to an androgynous alto: “Who’s there?Lieutenant Sturgis. Lieutenant Sturgis who?…Hear that, Alex?”
“Hear what?”
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