He scrawled, held out the paper. “Signed and dated, do your thing.”
Milo said, “Please list all your accounts at the bottom.”
“It’s not like there’s a collection of them,” said Sterling. “Got a checking at Chase and a brokerage dealie at Morgan Stanley.”
“Please supply the account numbers.”
“You think I know those by heart? Hold on.” He stood, grimaced in pain, muttered, “Bursitis,” and went up the stairs, gripping the banister. Several minutes passed, during which the sound of Sterling’sdeep voice filtered down. Lecturing about the fine points of vacuuming.
He returned with a pale-blue Post-it that he handed to Milo along with the impromptu release.
“Ms. OCD, found her doing the same thing up there. Dusting one spot over and over.”
Milo said, “Thanks, sir,” and placed the papers back in the attaché case.
“That briefcase thingie of yours,” said Sterling. “Haven’t seen one of those since I was in junior high. You’re old-school, huh?”
“Whatever works, sir.”
“Sir.That’sold-school. I called my friends’ dads ‘sir.’ My kids’ friends call me Jay.”
I said, “Who do you think might’ve murdered Whitney?”
Sterling’s head drew back. “Back to business? Good idea, I’m running my mouth. No idea. Not a clue.”
“Was there a love interest before you? Someone who could’ve been jealous?”
“Same answer,” said Sterling.
“No knowledge at all.”
“None. Like I said, Whitney never talked about her past. About herself, period. Maybe I’m not getting it across: She wasdifferent.Okay, weird. Gorgeous and hot but icy when she wasn’t having sex. Most girls after they do it, they want some affection, right? Whitney? She’d go pee and not want to talk. When I was mad at her I’d think, ‘You are strangely wired, girl.’ But I never said it.” He sighed. “Now I’m glad I didn’t.”
I said, “You can’t think of anyone who might’ve resented her.”
“Not saying there wasn’t anyone,” said Jay Sterling. “Just that I don’t know about them. That’s your job. Finding out. Hope you do. Want to one day be able to tell my little man Jarr-o a story with some kind of ending.”
Chapter
24
We walked away from Sterling’s house with Milo shaking his head and studying the sidewalk.
I said, “Not what we expected.”
“He’s either a total psychopath daring me to investigate him or a sincere loudmouth. I’ll get on those accounts but you know what it’s gonna accomplish.”
“Nothing to hide, nothing to learn.”
In the unmarked, he said, “What’s your take on him?”
“My guess would be sincere.”
He started up the engine, looked back, pulled onto San Vicente, and U-turned around the median after a woman walking two Frenchies had passed.
“Not as cute as Blanche. Not even close.”
“When I see her, I’ll pass that along.”
