Lots about her situation, very little about McGann.
Milo heard it, too, and rolled his eyes. “Marcella was due back Wednesday.”
“That’s right.”
“She was the one on shift when Benny Alvarez didn’t come home.”
“She was,” said Bauer. “I supposed this could be just a vacation overstay but Marcella has always been dependable. In any event, I thought you should know.”
“Thanks. Why’s Justine panicking?”
“Obviously because of what happened to Benny,” said Bauer. “Not that I can see any connection to Marcella being late. But Justine’s young and I suppose working alone could be tough. This is going to sound terribly sexist but the sub’s a man and the second person will be, as well.”
“You feel you need extra security?” said Milo.
“I don’t, it’s more a matter of reassuring Justine.” A beat. “And I suppose reassuring myself. I don’t feel any sense of personal responsibility for Benny but it is horrible. Any progress?”
“We’re working our way.”
“I see. One more thing, Lieutenant. According to Marcella’s Facebook page she’d be at a Cabo hotel called Hacienda Del Sol. Obviously, I wanted to talk to her about scheduling so I called but they told me she’s not there. I asked if she actually had a reservation, thinking maybe she’d just changed her mind. They refused to tell me, even though I speak decent Spanish. I must admit, that bothers me a bit. Mexico, you know how it is, nowadays. My husband and I used to vacation in Acapulco. Now you’re taking your life in your hands.”
“We’ll check it out,” said Milo. “As long as I have you, let me shoot a name your way: Mary Jane Huralnik.”
“Who’s that?”
“A street person Benny might’ve encountered.”
“A dangerous street person?”
“Another victim.”
“Oh,” said Bauer. “Well I’m sorry for that and it’s certainly a disgrace the way we let people live wretchedly. But I don’t see Benny developing a relationship with any of those people.”
“Why’s that?”
“Benny was trained in proper behavior. As are all our Level Ones. I’ve reviewed our procedures and they’re totally appropriate. The residents wouldn’t want me to tighten up. They wish to be treated like functional adults. Hope your luck improves, Lieutenant. And thanks for keeping things quiet.”
* * *
—
Milo said, “Every time I talk to her I start off thinking maybe there’s a heart of gold buried somewhere beneath the cashmere. Then she throws in an ulterior motive.”
I said, “Can’t think of one that would cause her to call about McGann.”
“Hmph.”
He found Marcella McGann’s social network page, learned the surname of chubby boyfriend Steve: Vollmann.
At the Hacienda Del Sol Resort and Spa in Cabo San Lucas he was met with the same stonewall Andrea Bauer had described. Unlike Bauer he had police credentials and the persistence of a retrovirus.
Three transfers later, a manager named Umberto Iglesias confirmed, in unaccented English, that the reservation had been made in Stephen W. Vollmann’s name and had not been “honored by the customer.”
“Meaning?” said Milo.
“By no-showing, they canceled a package deal,” said Iglesias. “Nonrefundable, nontransferable. We gave the room to someone else.”
“Did you try to contact Mr. Vollmann?”
“We call him?” said Iglesias. As if Milo had suggested he amputate his own nose. “Package deals are the customer’s responsibility.”
“What was the package?”
“Discounted room rate, full breakfast, tour of a tequila factory, ride on a dolphin.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“People enjoy it,” said Iglesias. “The police calling from L.A.? Is this guy a criminal?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“So why didn’t he show up?”
Milo said, “Why, indeed,” and hung up.
CHAPTER
20
Further research on Stephen Wayne Vollmann revealed a thirty-one-year-old Iraqi war vet employed as a pool maintenance man for a Granada Hills company named Agua Fresca, Ltd. No priors, wants, or warrants, good driving record. A six-year-old blue Camaro was registered at an address on Cochran Avenue in mid-city that matched Marcella McGann’s.
A call to Agua Fresca, Ltd., earned him an earful from the owner, a hoarse-voiced man named Lachlan Lindley.
“Him? Totally flaked on me.”
“Since when?”
“Since Wednesday when he was supposed to be here. Why are the cops after him?”
“He and his girlfriend were scheduled to go to Mexico but never showed up. We’re looking at them as missing persons.”
“Oh. Steve’s never flaked before. It is kind of weird.”
Milo said, “Did he talk about his trip?”
“Just that it was at some big resort, he was going to ride a dolphin,” said Lindley. “He was pretty excited, first time south of the border. He never showed up? Damn. You think some cartel got him? You know what it’s like. They’re mowing people down and the cops there are in on it.”
“Did Steve talk about his girlfriend?”
“Just that she was going with him. Shit. You think she did it? Shoved him off a boat or something?”
“Why would I think that?”
“ ’Cause it happens,” said Lindley. “People are in a relationship and someone goes nuts. There was that guy in New York, goes boating, chick he thinks loves him shoves him into the river, he’s drowning and she’s sitting there eating a sandwich. Talk about evil.”
Milo said, “Vollmann’s chick isn’t a suspect. You ever meet her?”
“Nope, didn’t even know her name,” said Lindley. “Don’t socialize with the staff, period. They do their routes, I mail them their checks.”
“Relaxed setup,” said Milo.
“If everyone does their job it is. I used to service myself, loved anything to do with water, swam at Cal State Northridge. Then I dove the wrong way and ended up in a wheelchair.”