His eyes rounded and his arm dropped. The pad slapped against his thigh and for a moment he seemed to lose balance. “Oh Lord.”
Alicia said, “You know her, L.T.?”
“Know her and worked with her. She was one ofus.”
Chapter
3
We were still near the deep-freeze when the coroner’s investigators showed up. Not the usual solo or pair. A team of four, paper-suited and gloved and looking purposeful.
Alicia said, “I told them the situation, said they might want backup.”
Two of the C.I.’s were familiar. Gloria Mendez, a former nurse, and Tom Blessingame, a former Torrance cop who’d despised retirement. The other two were tense young men who seemed surprised to be there.
Alicia explained the situation.
Gloria said, “See what you meant. Okay, we’ll figure out how best to do it and let you know once we’re done.”
Nice way of saying scram.
—
Milo, Alicia, and I returned to the front of the house. Fewer neighbors were in sight. Uniforms continued to push buttons, breaking for occasional conversation with one another. The sun was egg-yolk yellow, the air crisp and too pleasant for this situation.
Milo said, “Have you been through the house yet?”
“Not extensively without a warrant, just took a quick look-through with a couple uniforms in order to clear it. It’s like the garage.”
“Hoarder’s palace.”
Alicia nodded. “Except for the kitchen, I guess she needed the space to prepare food. Rest of the house, it’s up to the ceiling with just a couple of skinny aisles for walking through. It’s amazing nothing fell and crushed her. When you knew her, was there any indication she was like that, L.T.?”
“Didn’t know her enough to check out her housekeeping,” he said. “But she always seemed put together.”
“So maybe she changed in old age. Not that uncommon, right, Doc?”
I said, “It happens.” Thinking about dementia, deterioration of the brain’s frontal and prefrontal lobes, the variety of changes that could cause. I’ve seen severe cognitive decline but also humorless people suddenly enjoying jokes because their inhibitions have been stripped away.
Brand-new obsessions, as well, which could explain the hoarding.
Milo said, “Someone managed to get in there and make sure her death wasn’t accidental. Any blood in the kitchen?”
“Not that I saw,” said Alicia. “The whole place smells stale. You know, musty. But none ofthatsmell that I could tell. Still, we’re going to need time to plow through all of it. Any chance I can have Moe and Sean?”
“Captain okays it, sure. She doesn’t, I’ll help.”
“Teamwork leads to dream-work? Thanks, L.T. So she was one of us, huh?”
“Literally,” he said. “Westside station, Homicide. One of the first women to do it. When I started out she was already a veteran. Then—ten or so years ago she transferred to something small-time at another station. Theft, Fraud, not sure.”
“That’s a come-down,” said Alicia. “She ever say why?”
“Nope, just there one day, gone the next.”
I said, “Ten years ago she was in her sixties. Maybe the hours got too tough for her.”
Or she’d sensed her own decline and wanted lower stakes. No sense bringing that up at this point and complicating matters.
