“Okay. Michael Ramsden. Here’s his number.”
“Appreciate it and if you think of anything, here’s mine.”
“It really makes no sense,” said Bradley. “Whoever did this has to be mentally ill or something.”
“Absolutely,” said Susan. “Adriana was so stable, Lucas adored her. I am not going to tell him what happened.”
Michael Ramsden was caught off-guard by the call from Milo.
He said, “Who?”
“Adriana Betts.”
“Never heard of her.”
“Hmm,” said Milo. “So I guess your sister lied.”
“Hold on—let me switch to another phone.” Moments later: “Are we talking the housekeeper?”
“Susan said you backgrounded her.”
“All I did was the basics, nothing anyone couldn’t do online, so I’d appreciate your not making a big deal of it.”
“Doing it on company time.”
“Coffee-break time,” said Ramsden. “My personal laptop, my sister was satisfied. You’re saying someone killed this girl?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa,” said Ramsden. “Well, there was nothing in her record to suggest that might happen.”
“Spotless?”
“That’s what the computer said.”
A scan of the UCSD med school faculty revealed that Donald Chang, M.D., was a fellow in vascular surgery and Lilly Chang, Ph.D., worked in Oncology as a cell biologist. He was in the operating room. She answered her extension.
“Adriana? Oh, no, that’s terrible. In L.A.?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Well,” she said, “I suppose that might explain it.”
“Explain what, Dr. Chang?”
“Her flaking on us,” she said. “At least that’s what we assumed. Not at the outset, mind you. Our initial worry was something had happened to her, because she’d always been so reliable, never even went out at night. Then about three months ago she said she was meeting a friend for dinner and never came back. We called the police, checked E.R.’s, were really worried. When she didn’t answer her phone we figured she’d bailed and got pretty irate, I have to tell you. Both of us work all day and now there was no one for May. We complained to the agency and they gave us a discount on her replacement.”
“What about her car?”
“She didn’t have one, used the bus or walked. Obviously that would restrict her but as I said, she wasn’t much for going out.”
“Until she was,” said Milo.
“Well, yes,” said Lilly Chang. “I’m so sorry to hear what happened to her. It happened in L.A.? That’s where she went?”
“Did she ever talk about L.A.?”
“Never,” said Lilly Chang.
“What agency did you get her from?”
“Happy Tots. They were highly apologetic.”
“What happened to Adriana’s personal effects?”
“The little she had we boxed and stored. It’s still there because, frankly, we forgot about it.”
“We’d like to come down and pick up the boxes.”
“Sure, they’re just sitting in our storage unit. There really wasn’t much.”
“How about we come down today?”
“This evening would be okay, I guess. After seven thirty, I’ve got meetings until six thirty, want to put May to bed myself.”
“No problem, Doctor. While we’re there, if we could chat a bit more with you and your husband that would be great.”
“There really isn’t anything to chat about.”
“I’m sure, Doctor, but this is a homicide and we need to be thorough.”
“Of course. But if you want Donald, it’ll have to be even later—no earlier than nine, probably closer to ten.”
“He keeps long hours.”
“Long would be good,” said Lilly Chang. “More like infinite.”
Milo phoned Happy Tots Child Care Specialists, spoke to a woman named Irma Rodriguez who sounded as if she was wrestling with abdominal pain.
“That one,” she said. “She sure fooled us.”
“About what, ma’am?”
“Thinking she was reliable. What trouble’s she gotten herself into?”
“Death,” said Milo.
“Pardon?”
“She was murdered.”
“Oh good Lord,” said Rodriguez. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was, ma’am. How’d Adriana come to register with you?”
“She phoned us, emailed references from her previous employers, was lucky the job with the Changs came up right then. That’s a good solid job, I was p.o.’d at Adriana for treating them so shabbily.”
“What was Adriana like?”
“Well,” said Rodriguez, “usually I meet applicants face-to-face but with the quality of her references and the perfect background check, I figured she’d be okay.”
“Who supplied the references?”
“Hold on.”
Several moments of dead air before she returned. “Only one but it was good. Mr. and Mrs. Van Dyne from Portland, Oregon. Someone killed her, huh? You just never know.”
I called Robin, told her I’d either be home late or spend the night in San Diego, explained why.
She said, “A nanny. Everything seems to revolve around little ones.”
“Seems to,” I said, picturing a paper-doll chain of tiny skeletons.
“If you do come home tonight, wake me, no matter how late.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. I miss your feet in the bed. The way you end up in some weird position and I’m stretching and groping to find you.”
“Love you.”
“That’s another way of saying it. Whoever drives, be careful.”
We left the station at five fifteen. Rather than brave rush-hour freeway traffic, Milo took surface streets to Playa Del Rey, where we had dinner at a dockside Italian place with C décor and A food.
He said, “Leave the driving to moi, you can have wine, Mr. Wingman.”
We both drank coffee and by seven thirty I was feeling keyed up but no clearer on who’d want to kill a near-saintly woman. Once we got on the 405 South, Milo turned quiet and I picked up my messages.
Holly Ruche had phoned at six, apologizing for canceling and wanting another appointment. I left her a message saying okay. A hundred and ten minutes later, we rolled into La Jolla.
CHAPTER
21
Donald and Lilly Chang lived a brief stroll from the UCSD campus in a massive, gated complex called Regal Life La Jolla. Four-story brown-and-beige apartment blocks were surrounded by Torrey Pines. So was most of the beach town, where land didn’t nudge blue Pacific.
Gorgeous place, warm night. A lot more temperate than Portland though I doubted Adriana Betts had weather on her mind when she’d moved.
Searching for the right kind of job: caring for other people’s little treasures.
I knew all about that.
Milo rolled up to the Regal Life guardhouse. No need to flash the badge, Lilly Chang had left his name. We parked in a visitors’ area, walked past fountains, flagstone roundabouts, perfect palms and pines and coral trees, precise sections of velvet lawn.
It took a while to locate the building but we got buzzed through the security door immediately.
A redheaded, exuberantly freckled woman wearing enormous blue-framed eyeglasses, a black T-shirt, and baggy green linen pants responded to Milo’s knock. Her feet were bare. The shirt read I May Look Lazy but on a Cellular Level, I’m Quite Busy.
“Hi, I’m Lilly, c’mon in. Donald’s showering, he’ll be right with you.”
Dr. Lilly Chang was five six and lanky with a loose walk that caused her ginger mop of hair to shudder as she led us into her living room.
Despite the exterior luxe, the apartment was small, white, generically bland, a status unrelieved by the obligatory granite kitchen outfitted with the requisite brushed-steel appliances. What passed for a Juliet balc
ony offered an oblique view of a brown wall. The furniture looked as if it had been rescued from a dorm. The sole artwork was a poster featuring a cartoon human brain. The legend beneath the drawing read Software: Sometimes You Don’t Have to Buy It.
No need for paintings or prints; the walls were pretty much taken up by photos of a beautiful almond-eyed baby with blue-black hair. In some of the shots, May Chang had been propped up for a solo pose. Her reaction to stardom ranged from stunned disbelief to glee. In other pictures, she sat on Lilly Chang’s lap or that of a balding Asian man who looked close to forty.
A white plastic baby monitor breathed static from atop a black plastic end table. Above the table hung the largest portrait of May, gilt-framed.
Lilly Chang said, “I know, we’re a bit too in love.”
I said, “She’s adorable. How old is she?”
“Twenty-two months. She’s our joy.”
She fingered the hem of the T-shirt. One of those smooth-faced women whose age was hard to determine. My guess was early thirties.
“Please, sit,” she said. “How was your drive?”
Milo said, “Piece of cake.”
“My parents live in L.A., I try to see them every five, six weeks. Sometimes it can get pretty hairy.” She smiled. “Though I guess you guys could use your siren to speed through.”
Milo said, “That would be nice but unfortunately it’s a big no-no.”
“Figures,” she said. “Can I get you some coffee or juice?”
“No, thanks, Dr. Chang.”
“Lilly’s fine.”
I said, “Where do your parents live?”
“Sherman Oaks. I was the original Valley Girl.” Showing teeth. “Gag me with a spoon. Fer sure.” She turned grave. “So we’re here to talk about poor Adriana. I’m still integrating the news, it’s so dreadful.”
“It is,” said Milo.
“May I ask where it happened?”
Milo said, “Cheviot Park.”
“Wow,” she said. “My family used to go there for Fourth of July fireworks. It always seemed like a safe place.”
“It generally is.”
“Wow,” she repeated. “After we spoke I tried to think if there was anything I could remember that might help you. The only thing I came up with, and it’s probably nothing, is four, five months ago, Adriana came with us on a trip to see my parents. We offered her the day off but she said she didn’t need it, just in case Donald and I wanted to go out to dinner she’d be available to babysit.”
I said, “Your parents couldn’t babysit?”
“Of course they could. I sensed that Adriana wanted to come along so I said sure. My mother had cooked dinner so we stayed in. When Adriana heard that, she asked if we minded if she went out. To meet a friend for dinner. I know I told you over the phone that she didn’t have friends but I was thinking of down here and the L.A. thing slipped my mind. Anyway, we said sure, go have fun. She made a call and soon after someone picked her up and she was gone for a couple of hours. Now I’m wondering if her real reason for tagging along was she’d planned on a date.”
Milo said, “A man picked her up?”
“No idea, all I can tell you is it was a red car and the only reason I remember that was the color shined through the lace curtains over the picture window. I do remember thinking, Pretty flashy for Adriana, maybe she’s got a secret boyfriend. But then she never went out again. And I mean never.”
I said, “What was her mood when she returned?”
“Normal,” she said. “Not upset, not ecstatic. She was always kind of quiet. To tell the truth, I wasn’t paying attention because I was exhausted and dreading two more hours on the freeway. Donald had been on call and he was just zonked out and Adriana didn’t have a license. So I was stuck with the driving.”
“You did a great job,” said a voice from the doorway.
Since being photographed with his daughter, Donald Chang had shaved his head and grown a drooping mustache. Broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, he had taut skin and bright black eyes. I revised my age estimate a few years downward.
We shook hands. His skin barely touched mine. Surgeon’s caution. I’d anticipated that and was careful not to squeeze. Milo’s touch was even lighter, a bare graze of fingertips. Courtesy of all those years living with Rick, whose name for the policy was “Don’t scratch the Stradivarius.”
Donald Chang sat next to his wife, placed a hand on her knee.
“Terrible about Adriana,” he said. “She was a really nice person. Not the most social person, but I don’t mean that in a weird way. I just never saw her desirous of any prolonged interaction with anyone but May.”
Lilly said, “Except for that time in Sherman Oaks.”
“What time?”
“When we were with my folks and she went out?”
“Oh,” said Donald. “That is true. But it never happened again, did it?”
She shook her head.
I said, “She enjoyed her time with May but wasn’t much for adult conversation.”
“I wouldn’t imply immaturity from that,” said Donald. “She was a serious person. But yes, she definitely preferred to be with May and the moment May was asleep, she’d retire to her room.”
Lilly said, “Not to evade housework, during the day she managed to clean and straighten up beautifully. Even though that’s not what she was originally hired for, the plan was to get a maid twice a week.”
Donald said, “Adriana insisted it wasn’t necessary, the place isn’t big, she could handle everything. We offered to pay her whatever we were going to pay the maid but she refused. We didn’t want to take advantage of her and insisted she get something extra. Finally, she agreed to an additional hundred dollars a week. Which was a huge bargain for us. So when she considered her day over and went into her room, that was fine.”
Lilly said, “Right from the get-go, she was great with May, but we were careful anyway, installed hidden baby cams. Watching the recordings reassured us. She couldn’t have been more patient or loving or attentive.”
Milo said, “Do you have the recordings?”
“Sorry, everything was uploaded to my computer at work and once I was confident Adriana was okay, I deleted the file and got rid of the system.”
Donald said, “We removed the cameras when Adriana was out walking May. We didn’t want her discovering them, thinking we hadn’t trusted her. Though, of course, we hadn’t. Trust needs to be earned.”
I said, “And Adriana earned it.”
“In spades,” said Lilly. “She was a gem.”
Same term Susan Van Dyne had used.
Donald said, “For someone like that to be murdered is astonishing. Do you have any idea who did it?”
“Not yet, Doctor,” said Milo. “What else can you tell me about her?”
Donald turned to his wife. She shook her head.
I said, “Where did she sleep?”
“In the spare bedroom.”
“Could we see it?”
“There’s nothing of hers left in there, it’s all the current nanny’s stuff and she’s sleeping in there.”
“How’s the new nanny working out?”
“She’s nice,” said Lilly.
I said, “But no Adriana.”
“Corinne’s pleasant, May seems to be attaching to her. But Adriana had something special. A real kid person.”
Donald said, “Corinne’s also not much for cleaning, now we do bring a maid in once a week.”
I said, “Did Adriana talk about herself?”
“Not really,” said Lilly. “She wasn’t rude but she had a way of … I guess deflecting would be the right word.”
“How so?”
“With ambiguous answers, then changing the subject. ‘Oops, there’s a stain on the counter,’ and she’d get busy cleaning. I wondered if her personal history was painful, maybe a past relationship that had hurt her.”
Donald stared at her. “Really?”
“Yes, darling.�
��
He said, “I always thought she was just shy. What specific evidence of being hurt did you pick up?”
She smiled. “No evidence at all, it was just a feeling.”
I said, “Did you pick up signs of her worrying about anything?”
Lilly thought. “Like depression?”
“Depression, anxiety, or just plain worry.”
“No, I couldn’t say that, she wasn’t moody at all. Just the opposite, she was even-tempered, never raised her voice. I just felt she wanted her privacy and I respected that.”
“Unemotional,” said Milo.
“No, I wouldn’t say that, either. Her default mood was … even is the best word I can come up with. Going through her day, pleasant, never complaining. Once in a while—infrequently—I’d catch her with a remote look on her face. Like she was remembering something troubling. But, honestly, it was nothing dramatic.”
I said, “She lost a fiancé to a farm accident.”
“Oh, my. Well, that could be it, then.”
Donald put his arm around Lilly’s shoulder. “Honey, you’re an emotional detective. I’m impressed.”
A beep sounded on the monitor. Both Changs turned to the machine.
Silence.
“Back to sleep,” said Donald, crossing his fingers.
Lilly said, “That’s really all I can tell you about Adriana. Would you like to collect her belongings?”
Donald said, “So to speak.”
Milo said, “Not much in the way of worldly possessions?”
“Let’s put it this way, guys. Everything fit into two boxes and one of them’s small. That’s not much of a life, is it?”
CHAPTER
22
Donald Chang took us down in the elevator to a parking garage filled with vehicles save for a section cordoned by a mesh gate. Behind the mesh was a wall lined with storage lockers.
Chang unlocked the gate and one of the lockers and stood back. “The two in front are Adriana’s, everything else is our stuff.”
Milo drew out a cardboard wardrobe and a carton of the same material, around two feet square. Both boxes had been sealed cleanly with packing tape and neatly labeled Adriana Betts’s Belongings.
Guilt Page 13
