“Do you recall any friends at the department?”
“Nope.” Crooked smile. “Maybe that’s why she talked to me. Pair of outcasts.”
“Any reason for her to be an outcast?”
“Other than being female, not that I knew,” he said. “And honestly, Alex, she was treated well by the other D’s. Respected for her work but I guess it didn’t translate to socializing.” The smile widened. “It happens.”
I said, “Your finding no other money doesn’t mean someone else didn’t.”
“The killer scored buried treasure? I guess it’s possible but you’d really have to know where to look or take a long time rooting around. We’d been in there half a day before the envelope showed up.”
“Not the usual toss.”
He shook his head. “Godawful. Junk piled high, mouse droppings, mildew, dust you could finger-paint in. The mouse stuff got us nervous. Hantavirus or some other creepy-crawly. Once we saw it, we left and called for hazmat masks, which delayed everything another coupla hours.”
I said, “Martha was able to live with it.”
“Crazy, huh? Maybe she’d built up immunity. Or was damn lucky. Alicia was right. It’s a miracle nothing toppled over on her.”
I said, “Someone familiar with the house could’ve had an easier time finding buried treasure.”
“The daughter—or whoever the woman who visited her was,” he said. “Yeah, she’s who we’re concentrating on. I’m betting sheisa daughter because I finally accessed Martha’s retirement forms and there’s a single dependent listed. Lynne Matthias, forty-six, which would fit age-wise. No address listed but no criminal record shows up. You’re thinking a family reunion that went bad?”
I said, “Happens all the time. The woman was seen going toward the back of Martha’s house. Any indication she ever stayed for a stretch of time?”
“Next to the bed there was a rolled-up futon.”
“Any sign of recent usage?”
“Nope, dusty but not caked on, so maybe occasional usage.”
“Mother and daughter bunking in together,” I said.
“Then it goesreallybad,” he said. “Gotta find this woman.”
—
I sat there as he logged on to the DMV, then local crime files. He’d already searched for info on Lynne Matthias but data’s always coming in and it doesn’t hurt to be careful.
No payoff this time.
He checked out L.A. County death certificates and came up empty.
I said, “Maybe she got married and uses another surname.”
“She’s listed under Matthias in Martha’s personnel file.”
“That was a while back. She could’ve married after the file was set up. Or it was wishful thinking on Mom’s part.”
“Meaning?”
“She’s still my kid.”
“More like delusional,” he said. “Then again, Martha lived inthatplace.”
He tried marriage records. Several Matthiases had attempted wedded bliss but no Lynne.
But Martha showed up twice.
