F is for Fugitive (Kinsey Millhone 6)

"I have no idea."

"What if she'd found him? What would his reaction have been?"

"She didn't find him," she said flatly. "He'd have told me."

"Unless he didn't want you to know."

"What are you getting at?"

"Somebody killed her."

"Well, it wasn't him." Her voice had risen and I could see the heat in her face.

"It could have been an accident. He might have been upset or incensed."

"She's his daughter, for God's sake! A seventeen-year-old girl? He'd never do such a thing. He's a nice man. A prince."

"Why not take responsibility if he was so nice?"

"Because he couldn't. It wasn't possible. Anyway, he did. He sent money. Still does. That's all I ever asked."

"Shana, I need to know who he is."

"It's none of your business. It's nobody's business except his and mine."

"Why all the secrecy? What's the big deal? So he's married. So what?"

"I didn't say he was married. You said that. I don't want to discuss it. He's got nothing to do with this, so just drop it. Ask me any more about him and I'll throw your ass out the door."

"What about Bailey's money? Did she ever mention that?"

"What money?"

I watched her carefully. "Tap told me the two of them had a stash nobody knew about. They asked her to hold it till they got out of jail. That's the last anybody heard of it."

"I don't know about any money."

"What about Jean? Did she seem to spend more than she might have made at work?"

"Not that I ever saw. If she'd had some, you wouldn't have caught her livin' like this."

"You were living here at the time of her death?"

"We had an apartment a couple blocks over, but it wasn't much better."

We talked on for a bit, but I couldn't elicit any more information. I got back to my room at six o'clock, not much smarter than I was when I'd started out. I typed up a report, fudging the language to disguise the fact that I hadn't gotten much.

12

I ate an early dinner with the Fowlers that night. Ori's meals had to come at fixed intervals to keep her blood sugar on track. Ann had made a beef stew, with salad and French bread, all of it yummy, I thought. Royce had problems with the meal. His illness had sapped his appetite along with his strength, and some deep-seated impatience made it hard for him to tolerate social occasions in any event. I couldn't imagine how it must have been to grow up with a man like him. He was gruff to the point of churlishness except when Bailey's name was mentioned, and then he shifted into a sentimentality he made no attempt to disguise. Ann didn't show much reaction to the fact that Bailey was the preferred child, but then she'd had a lifetime to get used to it. Ori, wanting to be certain Royce's illness didn't outshine her own, picked at her food, not complaining about it, but sighing audibly. It was obvious she was feeling "poorly," and Royce's refusal to inquire about her health only caused her to double her efforts. I made myself inconspicuous, tuning out the content of their conversation so I could concentrate on the interplay between them. As a child, I didn't experience much in the way of family and I usually find myself somewhat taken aback to see one at close range. "The Donna Reed Show" this was not. People talk about "dysfunctional" families; I've never seen any other kind. I turned up my interior volume control.

Ori put her fork down and pushed her plate back. "I best get things picked up. Maxine's coming by in the morning."

Ann took note of how much Ori'd eaten, and I could see her debating whether to speak up or not. "Did she switch days again? I thought she came on Mondays."

"I asked her to come special. Time to spring-clean."

"You don't have to do that, Mother. Nobody does any spring cleaning out here."

"Well, I know I don't have to. What's that got to do with it? Place is a mess. Dirt everywhere. It gets on my nerves. I may be an invalid, but I'm not infirm."

"Nobody said you were."

Ori plowed right on. "I still have some use, even if it's not appreciated."

"Of course you're appreciated," Ann murmured dutifully. "What time's she coming?"

"About nine, she said. We'll have to tear this whole place apart."

"I'll take care of my room," Ann said. "Last time she was in there, I swear she went through everything I owned."