and Ray a drinker. Mama said that boy would come to no good, gettin' some girl pregnant, and now here he is murdered. I guess Mama was right."
I sipped the coffee and made a tiny scratch on my pad. A tiny black line that disrupted the perfect order of the blank yellow page.
"Pregnant."
"Low-class people will do that."
She arched her eyebrows and made a nasty smile. I made another mark on the pad.
"This girl, do you know who she was?"
My hands were damp when I asked. I rubbed them on my thighs, and tried not to be obvious.
"No. That all might have been just talk, anyway. If George had a girl, I sure never saw her and don't know anyone who did."
"That year when George ran off, did any of the local girls move away?"
Mrs. Reinnike laughed.
"Not for anything like that. That was 1953, son. When a girl had a problem like that, she bee-lined it down to Mexicali and was back the next day. We called it the one-night-stand shuttle."
She cackled again, as if she had known more than one or two who had taken the shuttle.
"Do you recall what people were saying about her? If she wasn't a local, was she a stranger? Maybe from out of town?"
"You sound like you know who she was."
"Just trying to help you remember."
She made a shrug like she couldn't be sure either way.
"What's all this have to do with finding his next of kin?"
So much for not being obvious.
"The child would be his next of kin, and the child's mother might know where George was living."
"Well, that's true. I wish I could help you with that, but I don't know, and I can't imagine anyone still living who might. George wasn't a likable boy. He took after Lita that way. I guess it might have been his legs, leaving him bitter and angry, but I don't remember anyone having anything good to say about him. He got in fights and was always in trouble and lorded his money. No one wanted to be around someone like that."
Lording money didn't jibe with the cheap furnishings in the Christmas picture, and Ray and Lita asking Edelle's parents for help to pay for George's operation. I asked her about it.
"Oh, George had plenty of money. That hospital botched up his operation, and had to do it again. Ray and Lita got some kind of fancy settlement. Well, they didn't get the money, but George did. He got a check every month, right on the dot."
"He got monthly payments?"
Mrs. Reinnike looked smug.
"That was the judge. The judge took one look at Ray and Lita, and gave the money straight to George. I guess he figured if George got the money little by little, Ray and Lita wouldn't be able to spend it."
"This was the hospital in San Diego?"
"Well, I guess. I don't really remember, but I guess it had to be."
If George had been getting a monthly payout, the hospital or their insurance company would have a record of his addresses. I checked the time. It was still before noon, and I could probably make it to San Diego in less than two hours.
I thanked Edelle Reinnike, and the two of us walked to the door. I wanted to ask another question, but had to work up my nerve. I stepped out into the heat, then turned back to face her.
"Mrs. Reinnike, do I look familiar to you?"
"Nope. Should you?"
The sun burned bright in the clean desert sky, and bounced off the white dust as if it were snow.
27
The Andrew Watts Children's Hospital looked like a grim Iberian citadel perched in the El Cajon foothills, one of those imposing stone and cast-cement fortresses that architects built when they hoped their buildings would last forever. I paid five dollars for visitor parking, then entered the main lobby and wandered around for ten minutes trying to find the reception desk. If the outside looked like a citadel, the inside looked like Grand Central Station.
A nursing aide gave me directions, but I got lost and had to ask someone else. On my third try, I found the right hall, and stepped through double glass doors to another receptionist.
I said, "Hi. Elvis Cole to see Mr. Brasher. He's expecting me."
"You can have a seat if you like. I'll let him know."
After two hours in the car I didn't want to sit. I drifted back to the glass doors and stared out into the hall. Chairs and padded benches lined the