The Wedding Guest (Alex Delaware #34) - Jonathan Kellerman Page 0,77
other narcotics. Hydromorphone and good old morphine. Fentanyl’s a whole bunch stronger and if it gets into your skin you can get sick or even worse. But it works fast, so if you’re careful it can be a wonder drug for an acutely ill animal. Not that I use a lot. If euthanasia’s called for, I over-tranquilize them. It’s safer, easier, more humane. All these agents are for serious pain. Don’t imagine you’ve ever seen a two-ton bull brought to its knees by agony.”
Milo said, “Fortunately not, Doctor.”
“The bigger they are, the more pathetic it is. Gets you right here.” Will Burdette grabbed a handful of shirt above his belt buckle. “Your clients are already out of their misery. I see more than my share of suffering and I do what I can to eliminate or alleviate it. In terms of who has access to this cabinet, you’re looking at him. Now you’re going to ask me is there a spare set of keys and the answer is yes. In the house. So theoretically Sandra could get hold of it and steal dope. You know those dope-fiend wives.”
He slapped his thigh and laughed.
Milo said, “Sorry—”
“Forget it. Like you said, you need to ask.”
Keeping his voice low and smiling. Both lent him an air of menace.
Milo said, “No offense, Doctor.”
“None taken, Lieutenant. You’re doing your job. If everyone did theirs, we’d have a better country. Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
* * *
—
Back outside, he stopped to play some more with the goats and sheep. “They’re as human-friendly as dogs. The goats especially. These are dwarf Nubians. My grandsons love ’em.”
I said, “Nice setup.”
“To me it’s Eden. I came here from Nebraska because a group in Canoga Park offered me a job. But it didn’t work out, so I tried to go it alone and started with a fair share of small-animal work. Then the city folk moved in with their dogs and cats so there was too much competition. Top of that, I like the big critters and don’t mind making house calls. So I concentrated on building that up. I still occasionally get a small patient. Mostly calls from neighbors and shelters. Had a seventy-pound pit bull couple of weeks ago, rose thorn in its paw, terrific animal.”
For all his wanting to get rid of us, another long response to a brief question. People get like that when they’re nervous.
We said our goodbyes and got into the unmarked. Morning was departing, some cloud cover was drifting in, cooling the air.
But as we drove away, the sweat on Will Burdette’s forehead beaded like glycerine.
* * *
—
Once we were off the property, Milo said, “You feel like I do?”
I said, “The Poland thing got to both of them.”
“Both of them gabbing—see that flop sweat on him? The way she cued him in before we had a chance to speak? They’re hiding something.”
“And trying to direct us to the Rapfogels.”
“No love lost. Sounds like the start of a great marriage.”
My cell beeped. Robin. I switched to speaker.
She said, “Hi, sweetie. Sharon’s touring but took the time to call back, how’s that for a gracious virtuosa? She didn’t think giving out the information would be a problem seeing as we’re talking about a murder victim so she texted the head of dance and just got back to me. Your Ms. DaCosta has never attended Juilliard under that name or anything close to it. They did have a ballet teacher, pretty famous, Madame Beatrice Da Costa. The dance head wondered if someone was using her name—like a wannabe composer claiming to be a Mozart.”
“How long ago was Madame at the school?”
“She arrived in 1952, a year after the dance division was established. She was already old and died five years later. So if she’s some kind of a relative, there are multiple generations in between. My bet is Suzanne was just pretending, poor thing.”
“Okay, thanks for taking the time, hon.”
“If not for you, who?”
I told her I loved her and clicked off.
Milo said, “Hmph,” and headed back toward the freeway. Speeding up the way he often does when his head knots up with question marks.
As we neared the on-ramp, he said, “So I’ve got a phantom who reinvented herself aka just plain lied. Which explains why I haven’t been able to trace her before she got the driver’s license. Meaning the goddamn I.D. could be useless along with everything she told her roommates, the Valkyrie, and the bouncers.”