Denny said, “They don’t do gas, anymore. Right, guys?”
“Whatever. I want him caught. What he did was horrid — beyond horrid. He ruined this absolutely glorious day!”
The Rapfogels left the way they’d approached: she leading, he following.
Milo said, “And now, all you people watching at home, the parents of the groom.”
Sandra and Wilbur Burdette walked together and sat next to each other. Both were tall, bulky, bespectacled, in their early sixties. Wilbur had yellow-white Carl Sandburg hair that flopped over a weather-beaten forehead. Sandra (“call me Sandy”) had made no effort to hide the gray in a short, curly do. Her dress was bottle green, beautifully sewn, and floor-length, his suit, navy with single-needle stitching around the lapels. High-priced threads for both of them but they looked unaccustomed to formality.
I glanced over at the family table. With the Rapfogels gone, conversation between a couple I took to be the groom’s sister and brother-in-law had animated a bit. Leanza Cardell drank, played with her hair, checked a clutch purse, drank some more. Next to her but having nothing to do with her, a pallid, ponytailed young woman in a shapeless beige dress — a girl, really — read a book.
Milo said, “Thanks, folks.”
Sandy Burdette smiled weakly. “Of course. This is so dreadful.”
Wilbur said, “I tell you, it’s the kids I feel sorry for. Anything we can do to help, Lieutenant, but I can’t see what that might be.”
“Appreciate the offer, Dr. Burdette.”
Wilbur smiled. “Will’s fine. I guess they told you what I do.” He chuckled. “She — Baby’s mother — probably made me out to be a clodhopper, right? Which is true, I guess. I’m an old Nebraska farm boy who never stopped liking critters.”
Sandy Burdette said, “It is a bit of a culture clash.”
I said, “Saints and Sinners.”
“Well, yes, that, too,” she said. “That kind of thing is foreign to us, I don’t get it at all. But I suppose it’s what’s called edgy nowadays. What I was going to say, sirs, is that sure, people are different but the main thing is the kids love each other.”
Not sounding convinced. She looked to her husband for confirmation. He missed the point and said, “Saints and Sinners, yeah, that is a hoot.”
Sandy said, “In the end, it’s all about compromise.”
Will said, “So, guys, how can we help?”
Milo showed them the photo. Second time around for them, too, but no protest as they studied.
Will Burdette said, “Sorry, same thing I told the other detective. Never seen her. I’d expect her to be one of Brears’s friends but Brears says no.”
Sandy said, “Brears’s friend was my first guess, too.”
“Why’s that, ma’am?” said Milo.
Deep-blue eyes rose and fell. “Well, you know. The age — the red dress, at least from what I can see it’s pretty L.A.-girl, no? But Brears is absolutely at a loss — she’s pretty much traumatized, the poor dear.” Saying the right things but, again, without conviction.
Milo said, “You’re from Calabasas.”
Will Burdette said, “Since we moved from Nebraska thirty-two years ago. We have what I guess you’d call a mini-ranch.”
“Working ranch?”
“Not hardly. My practice is farm critters, which means barn calls at all hours, no time to raise our own stock. We keep a few animals around because we love animals but mostly for the grandkids. Primarily rescues — dogs, a blind heifer, couple of goats, sheep, rabbits.”
Sandy Burdette smiled. “Don’t forget Glenn, dear.” To us: “That’s a desert tortoise we’ve had for God knows how long.”
Will Burdette said, “Coming on twenty-two years. Healthy bugger, probably outlive us.”
I said, “How many grandkids do you have?”
“Three boys,” said Sandy. “Six, four, and three.” Her lips tightened. “A decision was made that they were too young to attend.”
Will said, “Just as well, I suppose. Seeing as how it turned out.”
I said, “Who made that decision?”
Sandy said, “Gar informed us but it was what she wanted. My poor son was really nervous, having to deliver the message. He would’ve wanted his nephews here but he goes with the flow.” She pulled out a curl, tamped it back into place. “The wedding’s basically been her thing. The rest of us are along for the ride.”
Will said, “Saints and Sinners, still don’t get that. I will tell you this: What I had to pay for a deejay and all those bartenders is a sin. We have a married daughter, her situation was a lot more normal. Church, pastor, the reception stayed at the church, sandwiches, soft drinks, and beer, now go off and be happy together.”
He looked around the room. “They say this used to be some kind of church but to my eye you’d never know it.”
Milo said, “Not hardly.”
Sandy said, “Don’t be coy, Will.” To us: “Don’t know if anyone told you guys this but before it became a rental venue, it was a burlesque joint.”
“So we’ve heard.”
“Ah.” Disappointed. “Could that be related, Lieutenant? The kind of people a place like that would attract?”
“We’re looking into everything, Mrs. Burdette.”
“Those metal poles,” she said, pointing. “I don’t even want to think. But as I said, this is her big day.”
“Was,” said Will Burdette. “Best-laid plans and all that.”
Older sister Marilee Mastro and her husband, Stuart, were M.D.’s around forty practicing family medicine. Enhanced by stilt heels, she topped his six feet by a couple of inches. Both Mastros were blond, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and rangy. Long, grave faces gave them the look of an outtake from a Scandinavian travel poster.
I said, “Where do you practice?”
Stuart Mastro said, “That’s in some way relevant?”
“Just collecting information, Doctor.”
“We’re both at Kaiser Murrieta.”
Marilee Mastro said, “We live in Murrieta. Stu’s full-time, I’m in the clinic twice a week so I can prioritize the kids.”
“Three boys,” I said. “Your mom told us.”
Marilee nodded. “They weren’t allowed to attend so we had to hire a hotel babysitter. In fact, I’d like to get back as soon as possible to see how they’re doing.”
“We’ll get through this as fast as possible,” said Milo. “Which hotel are you staying at?”
“Executive Suites on Santa Monica and Overland. We’re all there, Amanda — my little sister — booked it. Correction: All of us are there except Amanda. She lives in L.A., goes to the U.”
I said, “The girl with the book.”
Marilee smiled. “Always. She’s the big-brain in the family.”
Stuart frowned. “Didn’t see why the boys had to be excluded but now I’m glad. Not just what happened, the tacky ambience. This used to be a strip joint. Not exactly a wholesome environment.”
Marilee stuck out her tongue. “It is kind of gross, thinking of what those poles went through, no? Can you imagine the germ cultures on them, hon? On the other hand, the boys would’ve had fun spinning around on them.”
Stuart chuckled. “Kyle and Brendan would go nuts and Marston would be sitting in his stroller cheering them on. With our luck, they’d pull the darn things down.”
“Reign of destruction,” said Marilee.
“Boom,” said Stuart.
I said, “Three boys.”
“Oh, they’re a trio of hellions,” said Marilee, fully enjoying the thought. She crossed her fingers. Checked her phone. “So far, no calls from the babysitter.”