“Seven rings in, it went to voicemail. I redialed, but she still didn’t pick up. Clearly I was being screened. I was going to have to do this in person. I pointed my car toward South Pasadena, making tracks to the retirement village where she lived with her aunt. Half an hour later I pulled up to her place and parked my Bug at the end of the driveway, blocking any means of escape. She could screen, but she couldn’t get away. I walked up the short pathway, past a flock of plastic pink flamingoes ...tended by a couple of fat garden gnomes, and knocked on the front door. I could hear a TV blaring in the background, and rang the doorbell for good measure. A beat later the door was thrown back, and I was face to face with Tina. She blinked, clearly surprised to see me as a frown settled between her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” “I need to talk to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “About what?” “The Barker story.” She shook her head.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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