P is for Peril (Kinsey Millhone 16)

"I heard she was up at Lloyd's, but maybe I should check it out. Leila's got a friend named Paulie, some gal she met in Juvie . . . this was a year ago July, I think. Paulie's been in trouble before. It crossed my mind the two of them might be planning to take off. It might be interesting to track Paulie's history and see what she's done."

He told me he'd check into it, and I hung up. I was already feeling guilty. The last thing Crystal needed was to have her only daughter brought up on charges of grand theft.

I went out to my car again and made the trip up to Lloyd's. I had questions to ask him, anyway, and this would give me an excuse. If Leila decided to take off, there wasn't much I could do, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on her.

Approaching his A-frame, I could see that lights were on. I pulled up to the driveway, parked the car, and got out. Lloyd was working in the small unattached garage. He'd raised the hood on his convertible and his hands were dark with grease. He looked over at me without reaction, as though my arrival at his doorstep was an everyday occurrence. I had no idea what he was doing to the guts of the engine-something manly no doubt. He wore cutoffs and a well-worn sweatshirt. Flip-flops on his feet. I could see a smudge on one lens of his glasses. He no longer wore the earring with the skull and crossbones.

"You're Millhone," he remarked as much to himself as to me.

"And you're Lloyd Muscoe."

"Glad we got that straight."

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in. I hope you don't mind. Is Leila here?"

He smiled slightly to himself. "Depends on what you want."

I studied the exposed engine, which looked like it was made entirely of parts that would explode. I'd learned to pump my own gas. It was my big automotive triumph. "What's wrong with the car?"

"Nothing that I know of except that it's old and tired. I'm changing the oil, putting in new spark plugs, stuff like that."

"A tune-up."

"Of sorts. I'm taking off in a couple days." He reached in and removed a little knotty thing and wiped it clean with a rag before he put it back. He adjusted something down among the major organs.

"Where to?"

"Vegas. I thought I'd ask Crystal if I could take Leila with me. What d'you think?" He wasn't actually consulting me, just making conversation while he went about his business.

"I can't believe she'd say yes."

"Never know with her. She's tired of Leila's problems."

"That doesn't mean she'd kick her out," I said. I waited for a beat and when he said nothing, I went on. "You think it'd be good for Leila, moving her again?"

"At least over in Vegas she behaved herself. She hates that school she's in. Bunch of spoiled, rich debutantes. What a fuckin' waste."

"She seems to hate everything."

He shook his head. "She needs handling, that's all. Someone like me who won't let her get away with all the shit she pulls."

"Limits and boundaries."

"That's what I said."

"She gets that at Fitch and so far, it hasn't helped."

"Too much carrot. Not enough stick."

"How does Leila feel about it?"

He looked at me sharply. "Feeling doesn't have anything to do with it. She's headstrong and lazy. Leave it up to her and all she'd do is lie around watching TV. Crystal's too busy trying to be her best friend. Doesn't work that way. Kid needs a parent, not a pal."

I kept my mouth shut. Crystal wasn't going to let her go, but I wasn't there to argue with him.

His tone of voice turned wry. "You ever going to get around to telling me why you came?"

"Sure. I could do that," I said. "I understand Purcell came up here to talk to you about four months ago. I was wondering why."

"He'd heard a rumor Crystal was having an affair. He assumed it was me. Too bad I couldn't up and confess. I'd have taken a certain satisfaction shoving that in his face."

"It wasn't you."

"I'm afraid not."

"How long were you married to her?"

"Six years."

"Bad years? Good?"

"I thought they were good, but like they say, the husband's the last to know."

"I've heard your relationship was volatile."

He paused and leaned on the fender while he wiped his hands. "We had chemistry. Stone and flint. We'd come together and the sparks would fly. What's wrong with that?"