“Yeah, yeah – go, git.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Tish Teague.

“Bye, ma’am,” said Milo.

Biting her lip, she fled.

“I left Lauren’s mother for her,” said Teague, laughing. “Met her on a construction job. She was this nineteen-year-old piece of ass, drove one of the roach coaches. Now we got two kids.”

“How old are your children?” said Milo.

“Six and four.”

“Girls, boys?”

“Two girls. When you called and said something happened to my daughter, I was thinking one of them. That’s what confused me.” He shook his head. “Lauren. Didn’t see much of Lauren.”

“When’s the last time you did see her?”

“Long time,” said Teague. “Real long time. She held it against me.”

“Held what?”

“Everything. The divorce, bad luck – life. Anything shitty was my fault. She told me so. Called me up a few years ago and told me I was a selfish motherfucker who didn’t deserve to live.” Sick smile. “Because I didn’t want to stick around with that cold thing called Jane.” He hitched up his shorts. “Our marriage was crap from day one.” To me: “That was the problem, that’s what screwed Lauren up. Us. Jane and me. The whole thing – bringing Lauren to you – was a goddamn con. My wife’s idea. ’Cause she doesn’t like to face reality. Like Lauren was gonna straighten out, living in our shitty environment. She – Jane – wasn’t gonna be honest with you, she was just conning you, pal. One big happy family. That’s why I ended it. We were wasting your time and my money. Load of bullshit.”

Hands on hips again. His good eye bore into mine. My silence made his neck tendons fan.

“Why’s he have to be here?” he demanded of Milo.

“I want to solve your daughter’s murder. Dr. Delaware’s been helpful to us on a lot of cases. If it’s a big deal, I can have him wait in the car. But I’d think you’d be interested in helping us get down to brass tacks.”

Teague’s eyes brightened. “My daughter. Every time you say that I flash to Brittany and Shayla.” To me: “You haven’t changed much, you know? Got that young face – smooth. I remember your hands, man – real smooth. Nice easy life, huh?” Back to Milo: “Brass tacks, huh? Well, I can’t give you any kind of tack at all. After the divorce, I didn’t see Lauren for… must be what? Four, five years. Then she drops in one night, tells me I’m a piece of shit, Merry Christmas.”

“She visited on Christmas?”

“Deck the goddamn halls – Yeah, it was four years ago, Shayla’d been born a few months before – October. Lauren musta found out somehow, though I don’t know how. ’Cause she came by, said she wanted to see the baby, she’d never seen Brittany and she was already two, she had a right to see her sisters. A right. She brought gifts for the girls. I guess cussing me out was her Christmas present to me.”

Phil Harnsberger’s party had taken place four years ago in November. The next day Lauren had come to my office, talked about her father remarrying. No mention of her half sisters, but soon after she’d come to meet them.

Moving around to the front of the La-Z-Boy, Teague sat down on the edge. The chair rocked, and he stilled the movement by bracing his feet. “Go ahead, sit, there’s no fleas.”

We settled on the plaid couch.

“Four years ago,” said Milo. “Did she visit again?”

“Not till a year ago,” said Teague. “Christmas again, same damn thing. She just showed up with presents. We were in the middle of putting up the tree. Presents for the kids, not me and Patricia. She made that clear. Patricia never did a thing to her, so I don’t know what she had against her, but she wouldn’t give her the time of day, just blanked her out like she didn’t exist. She brought armloads of shit – toys, candy, you name it. Walked right past me and Patricia and headed for the girls. I could’ve kicked her out, but what the hell, it was Christmas. The girls didn’t know who the hell she was, but they loved those toys and candy. Patricia offered her a piece of pie, she said no, thanks, I went to get a beer, and when I came back, she was gone.”

“Any other visits?”

“No – wait, yeah. Once more, a few months after… Easter. Same thing, toys, crapola for the kids. These huge chocolate bunnies and some kids’ dresses from an expensive place in Beverly Hills – some French shit.”

“No contact since last Easter?”

“Nope.” Teague scowled. “Both times she turned the kids hyper, it took days to settle them down.” Looking to me for confirmation.

I said, “Overstimulation.”

His good eye winked. “Hey, that’s a good one.”

Milo said, “During those three visits, did she talk to you at all, tell you what she was up to?”

“Nah, just a fuck-you look, where are the kids, walk right past me, dump the gifts, good-bye.”

“Nothing about her life? Not a single detail?”

“She bragged, some,” said Teague.

“About what?”

“College plans. Having money. She was dressed expensive, especially the last time – Easter. Fancy suit, fancy shoes. I had my theories about where she was getting money, but I kept my mouth shut. Why start up?”

“What kind of theories, sir?”

“You know.”

Milo shrugged, gave an innocent look.

Teague eyed him skeptically. “You’ve gotta know – the wild life.”

“Illegal activities?”

“Whoring,” said Teague. “She got in trouble for that a few years back. You don’t know about it, huh?”

“The investigation has just begun.”

“Well, start by checking your own goddamn records. Lauren got busted for hooking when she was nineteen. Reno, Nevada. Got her ass thrown in jail with no money on her, called me to make her bail – no hide or hair of her for years, and she calls me. Then nothing for a couple of years till that Christmas, and all of a sudden she’s a big shot and I’m shit.”

Making no mention of the arrest as one of Gretchen Stengel’s girls. The Westside Madam’s name had hit the news big-time, but none of her call girls had been exposed. Nor had the clients.

Milo scrawled in his pad. “So there was another contact before the Christmas visit.”

“I wasn’t counting phone calls,” said Teague.

“Any other calls?”

“Nope.”

“Did you send her bail money?”

“No way. I said forget it, you made your own bed, now sleep in it. She cussed me out and hung up.”

Teague snorted. “She tried to bullshit me, told me the whole thing had been a mistake, she’d been working at one of the casinos, escorting rich guys, nothing illegal, the cops had ‘overreacted.’ She said she just got caught with no cash on her, all she needed to do was get home to her credit cards, she’d fix it if I’d float her the dough. Credit cards – letting me know she was living the high life and here I was stuck, recuperating.”

“You were sick?” said Milo.

Teague touched the scar clump. “I used to have my own electrical business, was doing a job out in Calabasas. Someone fucked up, I ended up duking it out with a mass of rebar. I was in a coma for a week, had double vision for months. I still get headaches.” Glancing at the beer cans. “I sued, tied myself up for years, the lawyers took most of it. Then she tells me she’s pregnant.” Cocking his head toward the bedroom. “I was on painkillers, halfway groggy most of the time, and Lauren calling out of nowhere, whining about the police overreacting.”

Defiance spiked his voice. Even in death Lauren pushed his buttons.

“How’d she make her bail?” said Milo.

“How should I know?” Teague shook his head, picked something out of his beard. “I could’ve thrown her out the first Christmas, but I wanted to be decent. She might not’ve considered herself my daughter. But I was too mature to let that get to me.”

“She said she didn’t consider herself your daughter?”

Teague laughed. “That’s just one of the things she unloaded on me. Big truckload of shit, and I just sat there, being cool. That’s the way I always was with her – when she was a kid. She’d open up a big mouth and I’d just shine her on.”