The Wedding Guest (Alex Delaware #34) - Jonathan Kellerman Page 0,90
them in one hand. Grimaced. “When you came to the door, I knew it.”
Milo said, “Why’s that, ma’am?”
“Because I lead a boring life, Lieutenant. Boring is safe, I like boring, everything goes along just fine.” Deep breath. “So it had to be something to do with Susie. She’s always been…she’s a wonderful girl, the biggest heart, smart—a lot smarter than she realized…but…”
She shook her head.
I said, “She wasn’t into boring.”
“Not by a mile. So I knew, I just knew. If there’s going to be a…a…a shakeup, it’s going to come from Susie…at a wedding? Of someone she didn’t know? That’s crazy.”
Milo said, “We’re still trying to make sense of it.”
“You have no idea who did it?”
“Not yet, ma’am. It took a while just to identify Susie. She was using a driver’s license listing her as Suzanne DaCosta.”
“That’s a new one.” Dorothy Koster smiled. “How exotic. She was always reaching. For what I don’t know. Restless. The problem is she didn’t want to do the things that might’ve actually…forget that, I am not talking bad about my precious precious baby girl.”
We let that settle for a while. Milo looked at me.
I said, “The more we know about Susie, the better chance there is of finding out who did it.”
Dorothy Koster said, “What kind of things do you think you should know about her?”
“The kind of person she was, who she hung out with.”
“She was a good person. Big heart. Who she hung out with? I have no idea. Even when she lived here I had no idea. And that was a long time ago.”
I said, “How long?”
“She left after she graduated high school. So…twelve years. She didn’t cut me off. I’d get postcards. I’m here, Mom. Everything’s going great.”
“Postcards from where?”
“Everywhere—up north—San Francisco, Oakland. Even wine country—Napa, Sonoma. Nevada was a big one—Reno, Las Vegas, Tahoe. Once Nashville. Memphis. Then she went out of the country. Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama. She was a dancer. She always supported herself. She danced in shows.”
Higher pitch on the last word. Not quite believing her daughter’s explanations. Her eyes got steely as she folded her arms across her chest.
Back away from this topic.
I said, “What was she like growing up?”
“Gorgeous,” said Dorothy Koster. “Beautiful child right from the start, everyone noticed, everyone said she was stunning. People asked if I was going to put her in pageants. As if I would. Putting a child through that. I know about that kind of thing because my mother did it to me and I hated it. That was down south. Louisville.” Sigh. “I ran away, too. At the same age—eighteen. I guess history has to repeat itself.”
“Does Susie have siblings?”
“No, it was just we two.” Her arms tightened across her narrow frame, reaching around to her back. “I could use more water. Must’ve dehydrated myself, too much coffee at work. I get it free, sometimes I overdo.”
Milo filled another glass. She said, “Thanks,” took one sip, put it down. Her arms began the journey of folding again. Midway there, she changed her mind and threw them up.
“In answer to your next question, she doesn’t have a dad.”
We said nothing.
“I mean obviously she has one. But she never knew who he was. I knew but I told her I didn’t. I don’t feel bad about lying, trust me, he was a bad person. I didn’t want her going on one of those look-for-your-roots things, you know? She wouldn’t have liked what she found. And don’t you ask me for a name, either. He doesn’t know and I’m sure he couldn’t care less.”
I said, “Understood.”
She frowned. “He would not care.”
We waited.
“Here’s the thing,” she finally said, “it was a onetime deal, stupidest mistake I’ve ever made except for it produced Susie.” Her laughter was frightful. “Now there’s not even that. So it was just stupid. Like I’ve lived my life for nothing.”
More crying before she looked up, eerily smooth-faced. “Do you think God’s punishing me?”
I said, “I’m sure not.”
“Then why did it happen?”
“I wish we could answer that.”
“I wish you could, too,” she said. “But you can’t, no one but God can…I mean I don’t think a punishment that big would fit a one-night stand. That would be some kind of God, right? All the rest of the time, I led a good life. Got married legally when Susie was two, he was a nice one, worked at the sausage plant in Vernon. Died ten months later. Work accident, you don’t want to know. I got