—
Inside, the house was spacious with whitewashed walls, Mexican tile flooring, and high vaulted ceilings crossed by hand-hewn oak beams. The only visible furniture was a pair of brown Ultrasuede couches facing each other at a careless angle. Cardboard shipping crates stacked four-high filled an entire wall. Across the room, brightly colored plastic kids’ vehicles took up a generous chunk of floor space.
Said cleaner was young and skittish as a colt, avoiding eye contact as she repetitively swept an empty corner.
Jay Sterling frowned. “There’s nothing there, go upstairs and vacuum both bedrooms. Especially Jarrod’s, he’s allergic to dust mites.”
Biting her lip, the woman hurried up a curving staircase.
Sterling said, “You let her, she does the same thing over and over, total OCD. Finding competent help’s the bane of my existence. This one won’t last, you blink the wrong way she gets all teary. Got her from my mom, her maid is this one’s aunt. Great lady but this one’s a ninny. C’mon, sit.” He took the left-hand couch and we faced him.
Milo said, “Nine weeks.”
“I know what it looks like, it should be set up by now. But most of my shit didn’t arrive until two weeks ago and I’ve concentrated on getting set up for my kid and my office. The whole move took me bysurprise, first they ship me to the Big Apple, then sorry, Jay, back to La La Land.”
“What business are you in?”
“Shmaates,” said Sterling. “That’s Yiddish for the rag trade. I’m not. Of the Semitic persuasion. But that’s what we call it. My bosses are Taiwanese and the company’s Japanese.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s a whole different story.”
I said, “The company moved you back suddenly.”
“Yup,” he said. “Big Apple’s a mess but the vibe can be good if you know where to find it. I had a nice place on the Upper West Side and the bonus was my two older kids are in college there, NYU and the New School. Not that I saw them much, but still.”
He threw up his hands and dropped them to his lap. “Got to admit, I have a bad feeling about the whole deal. The move. Supposedly they want me closer to Asia again but I’m pretty sure they’re going to dump me. Fine with me, plenty of other fish in the sea, I might quit first.”
He waved a hand. “You don’t give a shit about any of this. You’re here about Whitney. That’s good. I hope.”
His voice faltered. Water had collected around bright-blue irises. He swiped quickly.
I said, “You feel Ventura Sheriff’s didn’t take her case seriously?”
“I don’t feel, I know. C’mon, a woman’s murdered, who’re you going to talk to? The love interest. Aka me. Yeah, I was in New York but you’d think they’d do more than a five-minute phone conversation.”
“That was it?” said Milo.
“That was it,” said Sterling. “No follow-up, either, and when I called them for updates they had nothing to say.”
He crossed and uncrossed his legs. “In the beginning, I was totally freaked out. Whitney dying was bad enough but what’s to say some fucking head-case isn’t going to come after me? Plus I wastotallyfreaked out about what my little guy went through. I assume you know about that.”
“Jarrod left in the boat.”
“Miracle he didn’t drown or freeze to death.” Sterling shivered. “I had nightmares, thinking about what could’ve been. Moment I was notified, I took the first red-eye out to L.A., drove straight to Camarillo, and liberated him from this Kiddie Jail where they put him. Took him to the pediatrician Whitney used, got the okay, and flew straight back to the B.A.”
Milo said, “Kiddie Jail?”
“County facility,” said Sterling. “Alleged safekeeping for toddlers. Jarr-o looked okay physically but he was totally blitzed emotionally and when he saw me he latched onto me like one of those monkeys you see in those nature shows my twins used to watch. For a long time he was quiet, spaced out, waking up in the middle of the night. Couple of years later, he’s okay. I got him into a Montessori preschool not far from here, very highly rated. I had my mom check, she used to be a teacher and she gave the thumbs-up. So he seems okay. For the most part. But sitting in that fucking boat for what, an hour?”
He rolled his hands into fists. “If I knew who was behind it, I’d…not going to say what I’d do.”
Milo said, “Horrible situation.”
“Beyond horrible,” said Sterling. “So why’s LAPD all of a sudden involved?”
“Whitney’s murder may be related to one of ours.”
“How so?”
“Sorry, sir, can’t get into that.”
