Page 16 of A Hidden Past

“Not a bad first talk. I’ll fill you in on the details. Have the parents been called yet?”

“Not yet. CSI wants to take a look first.”

“Call them. I want to see how they act around CSI.”

“You got it, boss.”

Lena looked back toward the street. The van was gone now. She thought back to her talk with Nate and wondered just what it was he wasn’t saying. She decided she would have to pay him a visit later and figure out exactly what he was trying to hide.

I look forward to getting to know you better, Mr. Harlow.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I don’t know how I manage to get my work done today. At any moment, I expect to collapse to the ground and start shaking again. I expect to start screaming and crying, or maybe shouting. When I finish one house and move on to the next, I expect to instead drive out of Autumn Downs, all the way to South Central or maybe Huntington Park, somewhere I can find a fix and drown out the image of Lila Kensington face down in her pool. I’m pretty sure the only reason I don’t go home is that going there means I really will get a fix, and then I can kiss this job goodbye.

Part of me thinks that might not be a bad thing. How much more of this can I really take? For God’s sake, it’s my third day, and I’ve already witnessed a murder.

And there’s no doubt in my mind it’s a murder. Lila Kensington might not have been at the top of her emotional game, but she definitely wasn’t suicidal. Suicidal people don’t give a shit if the damned pool boy is staring at them, and they definitely don’t go outside to flirt with that pool boy.

Someone drowned her. Or they killed her and then made it look like she drowned. And I got to be the lucky asshole who saw her.

Clara’s face flits across my mind. The fake smile she wore over a mask of rage, despair and hate. I know the feelings all too well. Rage at being trapped in a life you can’t stand, despair that you’ll ever find your way out and hate for the person responsible for keeping you there. I thought that Julian was the person Clara hated, but now I’m wondering if maybe Lila was the person they both hated. Maybe Lila wasn’t doing well in school, and they thought she would be living at home for the next ten years eating into their chance at a life to themselves. Maybe she did drugs or had an eating disorder, and…

Yeah, that might be it. She didn’t look too thin when I saw her yesterday, but after talking to Vivian, I was in a pretty sex-crazed mood, so I’m pretty sure seeing any girl half-naked would have set me off. And her arm did look really thin when I shook her hand.

“All right, wonderful! Thank you so much, Nate.”

I smile at the plump, overly dressed woman in front of me and remember her name at the last possible instant. “Of course, Mrs. Lalonde. I look forward to being of service to you in the future.”

Mrs. Lalonde beamed and said, “Aren’t you a darling. Have a wonderful day, dear.”

“You as well.”

This time when I leave, I remember to take the vacuum with me.

That reminds me of making an idiot of myself in front of the cop.

That reminds me that things are even worse than I’ve been thinking. I’m not just a witness to a murder, I’m a damned suspect. Like the cop said, she walked up on a dead girl and a pool boy the same age as the victim who admitted to hopping the fence into the backyard without telling the homeowners. If I was in her shoes, I would jump right to the conclusion that Mr. Pool Boy was a liar and a murderer.

I get to carry that pleasant thought with me as I start work on my next house. This one is inhabited by the Inohamas. Mrs. Inohama doesn’t even speak to me. She has her housekeeper show me the way to the pool but makes sure I see the disgust in her eyes when she looks me up and down.

That's fine with me. The less I know about everyone here, the better. If you want to drown someone in your pool, go ahead, but leave me the fuck out of it.

Lila’s smile flashes across my mind, not the crazed image from my fever dream the night before, but the real one: the amused, playful smirk she wears when she teases me for catching her in her underwear.

No, she definitely wasn’t suicidal. She was sad, but she wasn’t the kind of sad that overdoses and belly flops into the family pond. She was just a little lonely, and she came outside to see if the only person her age probably for miles wanted to help her ease some of that loneliness.

And I was too worried about my job to even give her the time of day.

Guilt stabs me through the chest at that thought. I had a chance to be the last person to show Lila some kindness, and instead I blew her off.

My thoughts drift back to the murder. I can’t help but wonder if Clara and Julian really killed her. It seems utterly insane that they would kill their own daughter, but it’s not like they’d be the first parents to do that.

And Clara did lie about that party. I left the question open for the cop because I didn’t want to get dragged into the middle of that conversation, but I know for a fact she wasn’t telling me the truth. Even if they had a team of cleaners ready to make the place spotless the moment the party ended, there’s no way that everything would look exactly the same as it did when I left. No fucking way.

And thinking back to Clara’s attitude when she was telling me about the party, I don’t think it was ever going to happen to begin with. She had looked at her husband while she mentioned it. She was saying that for his benefit. See honey? Look how much shit I have to put up with. See how nothing goes right in my life. This is your fault. You’re supposed to make everything perfect for me.

And Julian… I put his disinterest off to a practiced superiority, but now I wonder if he also is just tired of his life. He’s certainly tired of his wife. There was no attraction at all when he looked at her, and not even a hint of tenderness. He despises her.

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