12th of Never

When I heard that Jennifer and Lily were missing, I thought Floyd actually took the job from Keith. Or if Floyd didn’t do it, maybe Keith did it himself. I was afraid for my own
life
.”
    “And where was Lily at this time? Do you know?”
    “Oh, I know where Lily was. That’s what I’m going to trade for getting these stupid charges against me dismissed.”
    Yuki thought about what Lynnette had said. It sounded true, and it wasn’t even at odds, really, with Floyd Meserve’s statement.
    “Hey,” Lynnette said. “I’m talking to you, you little gook bitch. I can help you nail Keith Herman. Have we got a deal?”

Chapter 84
    YUKI SAID, “
WHAT
did you say?”
    Yuki had never been called a gook in her life. Her mother was Japanese but had been an American citizen for twenty-five years before her death. Her father had been Italian American, US Army, a veteran. Yuki was born in San Francisco.
    She was astonished by this new version of Lynnette Lagrande, who was not only a changeling but an ugly person through and through.
    Lynnette said, “I
said
, pay attention, Yuki.”
    Yuki considered launching a couple of stinging come-backs, but decided to take the high road. She ignored the insult and again asked Lynnette Lagrande to tell her what she knew about Lily’s disappearance and whereabouts between the first of March the previous year and last week.
    Lynnette spoke with her trademark good diction and grammar, and she named names. Yuki put her notebook away and slammed the lid on her briefcase. She said, “I’ll get back to you.”
    “When? How long do I have to stay here?” Lynnette called after Yuki as she exited the interrogation room.
    Yuki went out into the hallway, found people stacked three deep at the elevator bank, and headed down the fire stairs. When she got to the third floor, she opened the door leading to the homicide squad room.
    Brenda greeted her with a smile and said, “The boss is in.”
    Yuki thanked Brenda, breezed through the gate, and crossed the bull pen to the corner office. She knocked on the glass door and Lieutenant Jackson Brady got to his feet, opened the door, and asked Yuki to come in.
    “Are you okay?”
    Yuki took the seat across from Brady and said, “You’ve got to hear this.”
    Brady punched all his phone lines so that no calls could come through.
    “You’ve got my full attention,” he said.
    “Lynnette Lagrande just told me who was keeping Lily Herman for the last year, and I’ve got their full names. Marcia Kohl, née Kransky, and Alan Kohl.”
    Brady typed the names into a known-criminals law enforcement database.
    “They’re low-level jerkoffs. Insurance fraud. Petty theft. Last known address was Bolinas,” he said.
    “Right. Well, according to Lynnette, they did some insurance schemes with Keith Herman. They slipped in restaurants. Fell down in front of expensive cars that were slowing for traffic lights. Herman went after the insurance companies, split the take with the Kohls.”
    “Okay, here we go,” said Brady. “Alan Kohl, insurance fraud, charges dismissed August 2007. Attorney, Keith Herman.”
    “That was Keith Herman working his way up to full-blown dirtbag criminal defense attorney,” Yuki said.
    “So how does Lily Herman fit into this?”
    “Lynnette says she overheard Keith talking to the Kohls about babysitting Lily. She presumes he wanted to get the child out of the house and away from Jennifer. Then Jennifer turned up in garbage bags and Keith was arrested. Lynnette thinks the Kohls continued to babysit and charge Keith for their services.”
    Brady printed out the Kohls’ address, then said to Yuki, “We’ve got probable cause.”
    “Yes, we do.”
    “Want to ask Arthur Nussbaum for a search warrant?”

Chapter 85
    YUKI SAT IN the passenger seat beside Brady, who was driving the squad car, responding to radio calls, and taking quick glances in the rearview mirror at the cop cars behind him, bumping up the narrow dirt road that ran out from the town toward the far-flung farmlands beyond it.
    They were just outside Bolinas, a town of 1,600 people about thirty miles north on the coast, known for its remote location and reclusive townspeople, who habitually removed highway signs to keep strangers out.
    Thickets of trees lined the road, and behind the trees were private properties, separated from each other by fences and high hedges. Brady nodded his head toward a driveway coming up on the left, marked by a couple of garbage