Thirty seconds passed. “No walk-throughs I can find but like I said, that’s not infallible. Now you seriously owe me.”
“Name it.”
“When the time’s right.”
Yawn.
Milo put down the phone.
I said, “Maybe Justine’s onto something.”
“Something happened to Vollmann and McGann? Why would they be targeted?”
“McGann was Benny Alvarez’s caretaker when he went missing. Suppose she got upset enough to go looking for him, learned something, and made herself a threat.”
“Her and Vollmann.”
“She took him along for protection.”
“And he couldn’t protect her…looking for Benny woulda meant between the home and his job.”
I said, “An area where someone like Mary Huralnik would hang out.”
He phoned Bogomil. “Where are you, kiddo?”
“Strip mall on La Brea and Olympic, working my way east looking for Roget’s ads. Still nothing but I’m not sure that means anything. Free posting means no one at the register pays attention.”
“Time to shift gears,” said Milo. He told her about I.D.’ing Mary Jane Huralnik.
She said, “Homeless like we thought.”
“Homeless and mentally ill and doesn’t collect benefits so she wouldn’t be crashing at any SROs or shelters that collect government dough.”
“But maybe a nonprofit,” said Bogomil. “Church-run, that kind of thing. Or she just stayed on the street.”
“Exactly, Alicia. Forget the ads for the time being, head downtown and start looking for places. Now that we’ve got a name, maybe someone’s memory will get jogged.”
“On it, L.T.”
“I owe you lunch. You like pastrami?”
“Not really, too fatty.”
“You and Moe, both.”
“Nah, I’m just a girl trying to stay healthy,” she said. “Moe’s another species.”
—
He put BOLOs out on McGann’s Sentra and Vollmann’s Camaro. The second request elicited an immediate ping.
He said, “Excellent.” Then: “Damn.”
CHAPTER
21
A call to an Inglewood detective named Marcus Coolidge gave him the details: Two bodies had been found in that city the Monday after the Benedict bloodbath.
