work."
"Speaking of which, do you always hike before work?" said Milo.
"We walk four, five times a week," said Stratton.
"Keeping healthy," said Ulrich.
She dropped her hand and turned away from him.
"We're both early risers," he said, as if pressed to explain. "We both have long workdays, so if we don't get our exercise in the morning, forget it." He flexed his fingers.
Milo pointed up the dirt road. "Come here often?"
"Not really," said Stratton. "It's just one of the places we go. In fact, we rarely come up here, except on Sundays. Because it's far and we need to drive back, shower off, change. Mostly we stick closer to home."
"Encino," said Milo.
"Right over the hill," said Ulrich. "That morning we were up early. I suggested Mulholland because it's so pretty." He edged closer to Stratton, put his hand back on her shoulder.
Milo said, "You were here, when— six, six-fifteen?"
"We usually start out by six," said Stratton. "I'd say we were here by six-twenty, maybe later by the time we parked. The sun was up already. You could see it over that peak." Pointing east, toward foothills beyond the gate.
Ulrich said, "We like to catch at least part of the sunrise. Once you get past there"— hooking a thumb at the gate—"it's like being in another world. Birds, deer, chipmunks. Duchess goes crazy 'cause she gets to run around without a leash. Tanya's had her for ten years and she still runs like a puppy. Great nose, thinks she's a drug dog."
"Too good," said Stratton, grimacing.
"If Duchess hadn't run to the van," said Milo, "would you have approached it?"
"What do you mean?" she said.
"Was there anything different about it? Was it conspicuous in any way?"
"No," she said. "Not really."
"Duchess must've sensed something off," said Ulrich. "Her instincts are terrific."
Stratton said, "She's always bringing me presents. Dead squirrels, birds. Now this. Every time I think about it I get sick to my stomach. I really need to go, have a pile of work to go through."
"What kind of work do you do?" said Milo.
"Executive secretary to a vice president at Unity Bank. Mr. Gerald Van Armstren."
Milo checked his notes. "And you're a financial planner, Mr. Ulrich?"
"Financial consultant. Mostly real-estate work."
Stratton turned abruptly and walked back to the BMW.
Ulrich called out "Honey?" but he didn't go after her. "Sorry, guys. She's been really traumatized, says she'll never get the image out of her head. I thought coming up here might actually help— not a good idea at all." He shook his head, gazed at Stratton. Her back was to him. "Really bad idea."
Milo strode over to the car. Tanya Stratton stood with her hand on the handle of the passenger door, facing west. He said something to her. She shook her head, turned away, revealing a tight white profile.
Ulrich rocked on his heels and exhaled. A strand of mustache hair that had eluded wax vibrated.
I said, "Have you two been together long?"
"A while. She's sensitive . . ."
Over by the car, Stratton's face was a white mask as Milo talked. The two of them looked like Kabuki players.
"How long have you been into hiking?" I said.
"Years. I've always exercised. It took a while to get Tanya into it. She's not— let's just say this'll probably be the conclusion of that." He looked over at the BMW. "She's a great gal, just needs . . . special handling. Actually, there was one thing I remembered. Came to me last night, isn't that bizarre? Can I tell you or do I have to wait for him?"
"It's fine to tell me."
Ulrich smoothed his left mustache. "I didn't want to say this in front of Tanya. Not because it's anything significant, but she thinks anything we say will get us more deeply involved. But I don't see how this could. It was just another car. Parked on the side of the road. The south side. We passed it as we drove up. Not
"Speaking of which, do you always hike before work?" said Milo.
"We walk four, five times a week," said Stratton.
"Keeping healthy," said Ulrich.
She dropped her hand and turned away from him.
"We're both early risers," he said, as if pressed to explain. "We both have long workdays, so if we don't get our exercise in the morning, forget it." He flexed his fingers.
Milo pointed up the dirt road. "Come here often?"
"Not really," said Stratton. "It's just one of the places we go. In fact, we rarely come up here, except on Sundays. Because it's far and we need to drive back, shower off, change. Mostly we stick closer to home."
"Encino," said Milo.
"Right over the hill," said Ulrich. "That morning we were up early. I suggested Mulholland because it's so pretty." He edged closer to Stratton, put his hand back on her shoulder.
Milo said, "You were here, when— six, six-fifteen?"
"We usually start out by six," said Stratton. "I'd say we were here by six-twenty, maybe later by the time we parked. The sun was up already. You could see it over that peak." Pointing east, toward foothills beyond the gate.
Ulrich said, "We like to catch at least part of the sunrise. Once you get past there"— hooking a thumb at the gate—"it's like being in another world. Birds, deer, chipmunks. Duchess goes crazy 'cause she gets to run around without a leash. Tanya's had her for ten years and she still runs like a puppy. Great nose, thinks she's a drug dog."
"Too good," said Stratton, grimacing.
"If Duchess hadn't run to the van," said Milo, "would you have approached it?"
"What do you mean?" she said.
"Was there anything different about it? Was it conspicuous in any way?"
"No," she said. "Not really."
"Duchess must've sensed something off," said Ulrich. "Her instincts are terrific."
Stratton said, "She's always bringing me presents. Dead squirrels, birds. Now this. Every time I think about it I get sick to my stomach. I really need to go, have a pile of work to go through."
"What kind of work do you do?" said Milo.
"Executive secretary to a vice president at Unity Bank. Mr. Gerald Van Armstren."
Milo checked his notes. "And you're a financial planner, Mr. Ulrich?"
"Financial consultant. Mostly real-estate work."
Stratton turned abruptly and walked back to the BMW.
Ulrich called out "Honey?" but he didn't go after her. "Sorry, guys. She's been really traumatized, says she'll never get the image out of her head. I thought coming up here might actually help— not a good idea at all." He shook his head, gazed at Stratton. Her back was to him. "Really bad idea."
Milo strode over to the car. Tanya Stratton stood with her hand on the handle of the passenger door, facing west. He said something to her. She shook her head, turned away, revealing a tight white profile.
Ulrich rocked on his heels and exhaled. A strand of mustache hair that had eluded wax vibrated.
I said, "Have you two been together long?"
"A while. She's sensitive . . ."
Over by the car, Stratton's face was a white mask as Milo talked. The two of them looked like Kabuki players.
"How long have you been into hiking?" I said.
"Years. I've always exercised. It took a while to get Tanya into it. She's not— let's just say this'll probably be the conclusion of that." He looked over at the BMW. "She's a great gal, just needs . . . special handling. Actually, there was one thing I remembered. Came to me last night, isn't that bizarre? Can I tell you or do I have to wait for him?"
"It's fine to tell me."
Ulrich smoothed his left mustache. "I didn't want to say this in front of Tanya. Not because it's anything significant, but she thinks anything we say will get us more deeply involved. But I don't see how this could. It was just another car. Parked on the side of the road. The south side. We passed it as we drove up. Not
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