Split Second - Catherine Coulter [28]
“Well,” Delion said, forking down a huge bite of beef enchilada, “her name isn’t Bolger any longer, hasn’t been for twelve years now. It’s Lansford, as in Elizabeth Mary Lansford, wife of George Bentley Lansford, a big mover and shaker in Silicon Valley. He owns a big interfacing communications company that’s international now, and he’s using some of his millions to finance his run for Congress. He’s got lots of juice, as you can imagine, lots of people who owe him favors. His rep is that you do not screw around with George Bentley Lansford around here. That’s the bad news—we gotta be real careful when dealing with his family.”
Lucy looked at the last dollop of guacamole, saw Coop had a chip at the ready, and struck first, saying as she chewed, “You gotta work on your speed, Coop. Inspector, that doesn’t sound like bad news because we’re not from around here and it’ll be a treat to mix it up with him.”
Delion laughed, scooped up some black beans on a tortilla chip. “When I met you, Lucy, I thought, Now, here’s a nice, quiet, kind of cerebral girl with her French braid and modest little silver earrings. She probably doesn’t like to rock and roll all that much. I should’ve paid more attention to those shit-kicker boots you’re wearing.”
“Well, I don’t know about all that,” Lucy said, “but this poor boy over here would whimper if he had to face me in the gym.”
Coop grinned at her. “I saw Sherlock clean up the floor with you, Lucy. As I recall, she had your legs tied behind your elbows.”
“Sherlock’s tough, I’ll give you that, but Dillon holds back even though I tell him it really pisses me off.”
“Good thing,” Delion said. “Savich could break your neck while sipping his tea.” Delion frowned. “Savich isn’t a wild man, though. Only thing that would shake him is Sherlock getting herself hurt. I hear she got shot a couple of months ago.”
Lucy said, “Jack, that’s Agent Jackson Crowne, said when Savich saw her lying on the floor, he nearly lost it. She’s fine now.”
Delion polished off his enchilada, fastidiously patted his mustache with his napkin, and sat back, hands over his belly. He looked from one to the other. “You kids ready for the good news now? Like I told you, our girl’s mother isn’t Elizabeth Bolger any longer, she’s Elizabeth Mary Lansford. She’s an artist, does a kind of whimsical, fantasy sort of thing—elongated creatures with strange shapes and tentacles, and big eyes, like cartoon characters mixed with science fiction. She runs a local art gallery called Fantasia, over on Post Street. Here’s your dessert—I called the gallery, and she’s there this evening, some sort of showing for a local artist. If you children aren’t too jet-lagged, we can go meet her after dinner.”
Coop said, “Good news indeed; let’s do it. Anything you can tell us about her?”
“Not much yet.”
Lucy said, “Your mustache twitched, Inspector. Come on, what do you know about her?”
“All I’ll tell you is that she’s a local and she’s never been in jail. As for anything else, I think it’d be good if you guys go in with no preconceptions. Then we’ll compare notes.”
Lucy said, “What about those unsolved missing persons you’ve been looking into?”
Delion pulled out his notebook, flipped a couple of pages. “The first two teenage girls simply went missing, both from Mount Elysium High School. We found out today both of them were in some of Kirsten’s classes. The first girl was a junior, sixteen years old. She had biology with Kirsten. One day she’s gone, no sign of her, nothing at all. Good family, reports that she was well adjusted, so probably not a runaway. It drove the police nuts, but there simply weren’t any leads of any kind.
“Same with the second girl. She went missing a year and a half later, a senior. Here one day, and the next day, simply gone. Same good background, involved parents, no leads at all.” He looked up at them. “She shared an English lit class with Kirsten.
“We found three other missing young women who knew Kirsten Bolger in some capacity, and they all simply disappeared, one every three years on average. There