Milo toed the curb and watched as theCorvette sped off.
I said, “You wanted Brad to take Peaty more seriously.”
He reached behind and slapped his rear. “C.Y.A. time. If it turns outsomething bad happened to Nora, he’ll be looking for someone to blame.”
“You didn’t tell him Nora left Friday night.”
“There are limits to my honesty. First of all, Beamish never saw who was inthe car. Second, there’s no law keeping her inside her house. She coulda beengoing out for drinks. Or she did have travel plans. Or she got abducted byaliens.”
“If Meserve snatched her, why would he leave his wheels at her school andbroadcast the fact? And if the snow globe’s some kind of trophy, he’d take itwith him.”
“If?” he said. “What else could it be?”
“Maybe a defiant message to Brad from Dylan and Nora: ‘We’re stilltogether.’ That also fits with planting the Toyota in one of Brother’s Treasured Spaces.Is there some reason you don’t trust Brad?”
“Because I didn’t tell him everything? No, I just don’t know enough to besharing. Why, does he bug you?”
“No, but I think his value as a source of data is limited. He clearlyoverestimates his authority with Nora.”
“Not so take-charge sib.”
“He assumed the caretaker role because Billy and Nora aren’t competent. Thatallowed them to remain adult children. Nora’s more of a perpetualadolescent—self-centered, casually sexual, smokes up. And what do rebelliousteens do when they’re cornered? They resist passively or fight back. When Bradinsisted she break off with Meserve, Nora chose passive.”
“Tooling off in her Range Rover and leaving lover boy’s heap behind so theycan travel in style? Yeah, could be. So what do we have, just a road trip?Bonnie and Clyde in fancy wheels cutting townbecause they’ve been doing bad things.”
“Don’t know,” I said. “People who attend Nora’s school keep disappearing,but now that we know Peaty’s got wheels he’s got to remain center focus.”
“A van. Your basic psycho meat wagon. And soon he’s gonna be unemployed. IfSean’s yanked off surveillance and that bastard sneaks away, I’m further backthan when I started.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I screwed up by telling Brad aboutPeaty’s van.”
“Peaty cleans lots of buildings,” I said. “It was the right thing to do,morally.”
“Weren’t you listening? I was covering my own ass.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you.”
While we waited for the LAPD tow truck to arrive, Milotried phoning Binchy. Again no connection. He said something about the“high-tech big lie” and paced up and down the block.
The truck appeared, moving slowly as the driver searched for the address. Milo’s wave went unheeded. Finally, the rig pulled up anda sleepy-looking driver around nineteen got out.
“In there, the Toyota,” Milotold him. “Consider it a crime scene and take it directly to the forensicsgarage.”
The driver rubbed his eyes and shuffled paper. “Them wasn’t my orders.”
“Them is now.” Milo handed him gloves. Thedriver slipped them on and slouched toward the little car’s driver’s door.
Milo said, “There’s a snow globe on theseat. It’s evidence.”
“A wha?”
“One of those doohickeys that snows when you turn it upside down.”
The driver looked baffled. Opened the door and drew out the globe. Upendingthe toy, he watched plastic flakes flutter. Peered at the writing at the baseand wrinkled his brow.
Milo gloved up, snatched it away, anddropped it in an evidence bag. His face was flushed.
The driver said, “I’m supposed to take that in?”
“No, Professor, I keep it.”
“Snow,” said the driver. “Hollywoodand Vine? Never seen no snow there.”
 
As I drove back to the station, Milo said,“Do me a favor and contact that lawyer—Montez—soon as you can. Find out ifMichaela told him anything about Meserve and Nora that she didn’t tell you. Anyidea who Meserve’s P.D. was?”
“Marjani Coolidge.”
“Don’t know her.”
“Me neither, but I can try.”
“Try is great.”
The second call to Binchy connected. Milotold him, “Check out your phone, Sean. You still on him? Nah, don’t worry aboutit, he’s probably working. I’ll figure something out for nights. What you cando for me is start calling health spas from Santa Barbara County down tomid-Baja and see if Nora Dowd or Dylan Meserve have checked in…spas—like inmassages and health food. What?…no, it’s fine, Sean.”
He jammed the phone in his pocket.
“Stuck on robbery detail?” I said.
“Seems to be.” He beat a fast cha-cha rhythm on the dashboard. I could feelthe vibrations through the steering wheel.
“Better get over to Peaty’s place myself tonight. The unregistered van’sgrounds to arrest him. Maybe we can chat in his apartment so I get a look atthe dump. Meanwhile, I make those spa calls myself—hello, ear cancer.”
“I can do that. Leave the big-strong-guy detective work to you.”
“Such as?”
“Finding out if Nora used her passport. Is it really tougher postNine-Eleven? I’d think there’d be more interagency communication.”
“What a sage,” he said. “Yeah, I fibbed to Bradley, figuring he’d bemotivated to get into Nora’s house, let me know if anything’s off. Technically,nothing’s changed, you still need a search warrant to access passenger lists.And the airlines, being busy figuring out ways to torment their passengers,still take their sweet time complying. But there is more buddy-buddy stuff.Remember that granny shooting I closed last year?”
“Sweet old lady subbing for her son at the liquor store.”
“Alma Napier. Eighty-two years old, perfect health, some meth addleddungball unloads a shotgun on her. The search of said dungball’s dump turns upa carton of video cameras from Indonesiahollowed out inside with pistol-shaped compartments. I thought the Federal AirMarshals might want to hear about that, got to know one of the supervisorsthere.”
He retrieved the phone, asked for Commander Budowski.
“Bud? Milo Sturgis…fine. You? Terrific.Listen, I need a favor.”
 
Fifteen minutes after we got to his office, a civilian clerk brought in thefax. We’d split the task of locating and phoning spas, were coming up empty.
Milo read Budowski’s report, handed it tome, got back on the phone.
Nora Dowd hadn’t used her passport for foreign travel since the previousApril. Three-week trip to France,just as Brad had said.
Dylan Meserve had never applied for a passport.
Neither Nora nor Dylan’s name appeared on any domestic flights out of LAX, Long Beach, Burbank, JohnWayne, Lindbergh, or Santa Barbara.
Budowski had left a handwritten note at the bottom. If Nora had sprung for aprivate jet, that fact might never emerge. Some air-charter companies were lessthan meticulous checking I.D.s.
Milo said, “There’s everyone. Then there’sthe rich.”
He made a few more calls to resorts, broke for coffee at two p.m. Instead ofcontinuing, he leafed through his notepad, found a number, and phoned.
“Mrs. Stadlbraun? Detective Sturgis, I was by last week to talk about…he is?How so? I see. No, that’s not very polite…yes, it is. Has there been anythingbeyond that…no, there’s nothing new but I was figuring to stop by and talk tohim. If you could call me when he gets in, I’d appreciate it. Still have mycard? I’ll hold…yes, that’s perfect, ma’am, either of those numbers. Thanks…no,ma’am, there’s nothing to worry about, just routine follow-up.”
He clicked off, rotated the phone receiver, twisting the cord and letting itrecoil.
“Ol’ Ertha says Peaty’s been acting ‘even weirder.’ He used to just keep hishead down, pretended not to hear. Now he looks her in the eye with what sheclaims is &l............