He removed his shades. “We got a guest, Kell?”

Kelly Vander said, “You do, Larry. It’s all about you, baby doll.”

Larry Brackle flicked ashes into a coffee cup. “You’re trying to tell me Travis is some kind of Bundy? No offense, sir, but that’s lunacy.”

Kelly Vander said, “That’s what I told him, sweets.”

They sat next to each other, knees pressed together, smoking in unison, making their way through the Fresca.

I said, “The police consider him a prime suspect.”

Brackle said, “Police thought that the first time.”

“You know Travis’s history.”

Hesitation. “Sure. It was in the papers.”

“Not the local papers.”

Silence.

I said, “The Ferris Ravine Clarion’s pretty obscure, Mr. Brackle. Unless you know his story from some other source.”

Brackle turned to Kelly Vander. Her face stayed blank.

He said, “Whatever, I heard about it.”

“Travis told you.”

“Whatever.”

“Did you meet him in rehab?”

“Look, sir, I want to be a good citizen, but I don’t speak for Travis. He owns what he owns and my shit is my own. No offense.”

I said, “Speak for yourself then. Did you know him before he took Brandeen to the hospital or after?”

Brackle’s jaws worked. Pint-sized man but his wrists and hands were thick and sturdy. “Man, I’m hungry.” He sprang up, jogged to the kitchen, returned with a slab of pound cake on a paper plate. “ Split, honey?”

“No, it’s yours.”

Brackle kissed her cheek. “It could be yours, too.”

“You’re so sweet but Ms. Tummy’s full,” said Kelly Vander. “I’ll wait till dinner.”

“You’re sure? It’s good cake.”

“I am, sweetie.”

“Okay. Let’s have those steaks for dinner.”

“You can have one, Lar. Little heavy for me.”

“I’ll cut them into thin strips.”

“We’ll see.”

“You liked ’em that way before.”

“Yeah, that was good, but I don’t know, I’m kind of full.”

I said, “I’m thinking you knew Travis before he found Brandeen. He went looking for her and Brandi in order to help you out.”

“Now, c’mon, sir, don’t be going off on some guessing game. Travis is a good man.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t. I know he didn’t hurt Brandi.”

Brackle’s hands became glossy white fists. “Hell, no, he didn’t. Everyone knows who hurt Brandi. Sir.”

“Gibson DePaul.”

“Scum. They sent him up for life and he killed another inmate and got sent to Pelican Bay. Sir.”

“You keep tabs on him?”

“We get that victim notification mailer they send us.”

“ ‘Us’ meaning the two of you? Or you and your ex?”

“I can’t say what she gets.”

“Where is Anita?”

“You tell me.”

“Lost contact?”

“Anita couldn’t change herself. Didn’t wanna try.”

“What about the kids?”

“I see ’em on some holidays,” said Brackle. “What’s the diff to you? Why all this curiosity about my family?”

“Sorry. My main interest is Travis.”

“Then you’re spinning your wheels, sir. He didn’t kill nobody. Not then, not now.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“What is?”

“The police consider him a prime suspect but people keep showing up who consider him a saint.”

“Like who?”

“Debora Wallenburg.”

Brackle and Kelly Vander looked at each other. Burst into sudden, strident laughter.

I said, “Must’ve missed the joke.”

Brackle said, “Saints. There ain’t no such thing, we’re always talking about that. All there is, sir, are sinners of different degrees and what we all need is to learn to forgive ourselves, not wait for some preacher to do it.”

I said, “So both of you met Travis in rehab.”

No answer.

“It’s not a secret that can be kept very long.”

“Travis is entitled to his privacy, sir.”

“Getting help’s not something to be ashamed of, Mr. Brackle. On the contrary. He got himself together.”

Kelly Vander said, “Okay, fine, that’s where we met him.”

I said, “Did you recommend him to Simon as payment for rescuing Larry’s granddaughter?”

Brackle said, “You’re a smart one. Why don’t you use that brain on something important?”

“How long before Brandi’s murder did you meet him?”

“Right before, okay? Six, seven months. I’d already decided to leave Anita because she refused to get better and I knew if I stayed with her, I’d be dead soon. Only thing that stopped me was the kids. Three of hers-including Brandi-and we had one together. That’s Randy. He’s in the service, over in Fallujah, got decorated.”

“Randy’s a wonderful boy,” said Kelly, wistfully.

Brackle said, “We got a consensus on that… yeah, that’s where we met Travis, the three of us trying to get straight. His treatment was being paid for by that lawyer, Wallenburg. I thought it was damn nice of her and told him so. Told him he should take advantage of amazing grace and improve himself. I was using my own dough plus work disability, place cost a fortune.”

Kelly said, “Simon footed my bill. Even though we were divorced.”

“When was this?” I said.

“Twelve years ago, Simon and I had split up three years before but we stayed friends. I put Simon through a lot and he stopped loving me, but he still liked me. No matter what, I never raised my voice to him. Never tried to squeeze any extra money out of him even after he got real rich. I thought I deserved not to be loved so I made sure he stopped loving me. Simone was a teenager, the stress-I wasn’t handling anything, Simon said give it another try, Kell, you owe it to yourself, we’ll find a great place, all the creature comforts. He got me brochures. I liked the one from Pledges, lots of trees.”

“Pledges in South Pasadena?”

“You know it?”

“Good place,” I said. “Closed down a few years ago.”

Larry Brackle said, “Great place. They got bought out by one of those corporations, bastards ran it into the ground.”

Kelly said, “First day I got there, I met Larry. He liked me and loved me but it wasn’t for years that he admitted it ’cause he was still married. And I wasn’t in a receptive state-didn’t see myself committed to anyone.”

“How long have you two been together?”

Brackle said, “Officially, nine years. In here”-patting his heart-“from forever.”

Kelly Vander said, “Instant friendship and acceptance, I never had that with a man. Simon’s a good man, but I knew I was failing him constantly, and you can’t live being a failure all the time.”

I said, “The cops say Travis was a poly-drug user.”

No answer.

“Rehab helped the two of you, but it didn’t work for him. Two years afterward, he was homeless.”

“That’s where I saw him,” said Larry Brackle.

“On the street?”

“Used to work in Hollywood, big apartment building, nice place west of La Brea, assistant super. On my way home, I generally took the boulevard, drove past the Chinese Theatre. One night I spotted Travis there, panhandling tourists. He looked real bad. Compared to when he was at Pledges, I mean. Stringy hair, beard, all hunched over. Not doing too good with the tourists because he wouldn’t get in anyone’s face, that’s Travis, he don’t confront. I drove around the block, pulled up, laid a twenty in his palm. He saw it was me, started to cry, said he was sorry for screwing up.”

Kelly said, “Before we got discharged, the three of us made a promise to change and to reach out to each other when our thoughts turned bad. Larry and I stuck to it, that’s how we succeeded. But we lost touch with Travis.”

Brackle nodded. “I told him, ‘No one’s judging you, man. Come home with me for a meal and a bath.’ He ran off and the next day, he wasn’t there, same for the entire week. But then I saw him again, same deal, his hand’s out, even worse-looking. This time, he agreed to go with me. Anita was pissed off, said you see any extra room in this dump, genius? What with her, me, all the kids, we had a couple of dogs, too. I said I’d sleep outside in the backyard if that made it better. She said maybe both of you should. What ended up happening was Travis used this toolshed we had. I cleared away junk and put out a mattress and he’d come and go as he pleased. I got him a haircut. Once the hair was off, we saw all these pierces he had in his ears. Like a pirate. Especially with that limp, he was like a pirate. Kids loved the pierces, Anita hated them.”