Trunk Music

come?”
    “Mail. It was in cash. I know it came from Sherman Oaks, California. That was always the postmark. What does this have to do with anything now?”
    “Tell me your daughter’s name, Dorothy.”
    “She was born to me and my first husband. My name was Gilroy back then and that was hers.”
    “Jennifer Gilroy,” Rider said, repeating Veronica Aliso’s true name.
    The old woman looked at Rider with surprise but didn’t ask how she knew.
    “We called her Jenny,” she said. “Anyway, you see, when I took over with Gretchen I was remarried and had a new name. I gave it to Gretchen so the kids at school wouldn’t bother her about it. Everybody always thought I was her momma and that was fine with the both of us. Nobody needed to know diff’rent.”
    Bosch just nodded. It had all come together now. Veronica Aliso was Layla’s mother. Tony Aliso had gone from the mother to the daughter. There was nothing else to ask or say. He thanked the old woman and touched Rider on the back so that she would go through the door first. Out on the front step, he paused and looked back at Dorothy Alexander. He waited until Rider was a few steps toward the car before speaking.
    “When you hear from Layla-I mean, Gretchen-tell her not to come home. Tell her to stay as far away from here as she can.”
    He shook his head.
    “She shouldn’t ever come home.”
    The woman didn’t say anything. Bosch waited a couple moments while looking down at the worn welcome mat. He then nodded and headed to the car.
    Bosch took the backseat behind Edgar, Rider sat in the front. As soon as they were in the car and Edgar was backing out of the driveway, Rider turned around and looked at Bosch.
    “Harry, how did you ever put that together?”
    “Her last words. Veronica’s. She said, ‘Let my daughter go.’ I just sort of knew then. There’s a resemblance there. I just didn’t place it before.”
    “You’ve never even seen her.”
    “I’ve seen her picture.”
    “What?” Edgar said. “What’s going on?”
    “Do you think Tony Aliso knew who she was?” Rider asked, ignoring Edgar.
    “Hard to say,” Bosch said. “If he did, it makes what happened to him easier to understand, easier to take. Maybe he was flaunting it with Veronica. Maybe it’s what sent her over the edge.”
    “And Layla-slash-Gretchen?”
    Edgar’s head was swiveling back and forth between them and the road, a look of confusion on his face.
    “Something tells me she didn’t know. I think if she did, she would have told her grandmother. And the old lady didn’t know.”
    “If he was just using her to get to Veronica, why’d he move all the money into her box?”
    “He could’ve been using her but he also could’ve been in love with her. We’ll never know. Might’ve just been coincidence that it happened on the day he got killed. He could’ve just transferred the cash because he had the IRS on him. Maybe he was afraid they’d find out about the box and freeze his access to it. It could’ve been a lot of things. But we’ll never know now. Everybody’s dead.”
    “Except for the girl.”
    Edgar made a hard stop, pulling to the side of the road. Coincidentally, they happened to be across the street from Dolly’s on Madison.
    “Is somebody gonna tell me what the hell is going on?” he demanded. “I do you people a favor and keep the car cool while you two go inside for a chat and then I’m left in the dark. Now what the hell are you two talking about?”
    He was looking at Bosch in the rearview mirror.
    “Just drive, Jed. Kiz will tell you when we get to the Flamingo.”
    They drove into the front circle of the Hilton Flamingo and Bosch left them there. He moved quickly through the football field-sized casino, dodging rows of slot machines, until he reached the poker room, where Eleanor had said she would be when they were done. They had dropped her at the Flamingo that morning after she had shown them the bank she had once seen Tony Aliso going into with Gretchen Alexander.
    There were five tables going in the poker room. Bosch quickly scanned the faces of the players but did not see Eleanor. Then, as he turned to look back across the casino, she was there, just as when she had appeared on the first night he’d gone looking for her.
    “Harry.”
    “Eleanor. I thought you’d be playing.”
    “I couldn’t play while thinking about you out there. Is everything okay?”
    “Everything is fine. We’re leaving.”
    “Good. I