“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Ms. Flatt. This hiking group Desi and Doreen had, how many people are we talking about?”
“Just a few other kids, I really wasn’t paying attention.”
“And to your knowledge Desi and Doreen weren’t romantically involved.”
“I thought about that,” said Ricki Flatt. “Maybe, I really can’t say. Desi had so many girls who liked him. They were always calling him. Dad used to joke he needed a personal secretary.”
“Do you have any knowledge of his other recent girlfriends?”
Head shake. “Sorry, I wasn’t involved in my brother’s personal life back then and that didn’t change after we grew up.”
“Did you know that Doreen lived in a group home not far from your house?”
“No, but you must mean Hope Lodge. That place was the talk of the neighborhood. My friends joked about it, called it ‘Ho Lodge’ because the girls were wild. I’m not saying they were, but you know how kids talk. That’s probably why my dad said she had problems.”
“Was he worried about her being a bad influence on Desi?”
Ricki Flatt smiled. “My parents made a big thing about Desi and me developing our own sense of right and wrong. But even if they had tried to rein Desi in, it wouldn’t have worked. My brother did exactly as he pleased.”
Milo said, “Did Desi’s strong will lead to any-I have to ask this-iffy behavior?”
“What do you mean?”
“Anything out of the ordinary.”
“If you consider leaving home after high school and hitting the road for ten years out of the ordinary, sure.”
“Ten years,” said Milo.
“Ten lost years,” said Ricki Flatt. “Basically Desi disappeared. Once in a while we’d get postcards.”
“From where?”
“All over the country. National parks, that kind of thing.”
“Not overseas?”
“No.”
“What did Desi do to support himself?”
“He said odd jobs, temporary stuff that gave him time to explore nature, figure life out.”
“Postcards,” said Milo. “No visits back home?”
“Once, twice a year he’d pop up-Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays. He looked great, really happy and that reassured my parents. He was reviving the whole sixties thing-long hair, beard, hemp sandals. But always clean and well groomed, Dad said he looked like Hollywood’s idea of Jesus.”
“You mentioned handling your parents’ affairs, so I assume-”
“Gone, Lieutenant. Four years ago. They were vacationing near Mount Olympia, decided to explore and drove onto a dirt access road that passed through a heavy logging area. A load of huge pines came loose from a truck bed and crushed their car. We wanted to sue-Scott and I and Des-but the lawyers said our case was weak because the road was chained and warning signs were all around, Dad had lifted it and driven through, anyway. In the end we settled for a hundred thousand. The lawyers took forty percent and we split sixty with Des. He’d cleaned up his act and started architecture school, said it would help with tuition and living expenses. What made it horribly ironic is we’re from an old logging family, four generations. My grandfather was a master sawyer and Dad did some logging before he became a firefighter.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“It happened before Sam was born, that’s what hurts the most. Mom and Dad would’ve loved Sam.” Tears. “She adored Desi and now he’s gone.”
“How did Desi react to losing your parents?”
“Terribly,” said Ricki Flatt. “He got this empty look in his eyes, walked around for weeks as if he was in a trance. The walking wounded, Scott called it. I’ve never seen my brother like that, generally he’s open and mellow and accessible.”
“He drew into himself.”
“I remember thinking this isn’t healthy, he needs to deal with it, do some serious grieving or he’s going to break down. I was sure he’d drop out of school but he didn’t, he stuck with it and graduated with honors.”
Milo tapped his pen on a corner. “Ms. Flatt, that remark you made yesterday on the phone, about it being political. We’re still curious about that.”
Ricki Flatt’s eyes jumped all over the place. “Forget that, that was silly. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did, ma’am.”
She untied her hair, shook it loose, fastened it tighter.
“Ricki, we have no interest except solving your brother’s murder.”
Thumping both elbows on the table, she pressed her palms to her cheeks. Her fingertips trailed above her ears, as if blocking out noise. See no, hear no.
Milo said, “The only thing we’ve heard remotely political about your brother is he was into green architecture, the whole environment thing.”
Ricki Flatt’s left cheek twitched.
Milo edged closer. “Did he get radical with that? Spend those ten years doing things that might be considered illegal?”
“I don’t know how he spent them.”
“But you’re worried.”
“Desi… used to talk.”
“About what?”
“Burning down the house,” she said. “That was the name of a song he liked. When he visited, he’d sometimes go off on speeches. About the beauty of untouched wilderness. About greedy people who raped the land and built monuments to their ego. What they needed, he said, was a good lesson.”
“Monuments,” said Milo. “Like the one he died in. And now you’re worried he put himself in a bad position.”
Ricki Flatt looked up. “Oh, God, I should’ve known something bad was going to happen when he gave me the money. Desi’s never been able to hold on to money, he’s never cared about money.”
No need for Milo to press. He gave her a tissue, waited until she’d patted her eyes dry.
“All right,” she said. “This is what happened: Des showed up six months ago with fifty thousand dollars in cash. Two big suitcases full. He asked me to hold it for him. I gave him a spare key to the unit.”
“We’re talking last January,” said Milo.
“New Year’s weekend, Scott and I were about to leave for a trip to New Mexico and Des showed up, no advance notice.”
“Did he say where he got the money?”
“I know, I should’ve asked. Scott was furious with me, said it had to be drug money or something else illegal and I’d gotten us in way over our heads. I said that made no sense, Desi had never used dope or alcohol, took care of his body. Scott told me I was being naïve, Desi had been on the road for years, we had no clue about what he’d done. We got into a big fight, Scott demanded I call Desi back, insist he take the suitcases.” Shrill laughter. “It was pretty darn dramatic. Of course, I finally agreed.”