Free Lullaby Town (1992) by Robert - Elvis Cole 03 Crais

creases that I tried to smooth.
    May Erdich leaned forward and smiled the wide smile and said, "Are you serious?" like maybe I was pulling her leg.
    I said, "What?"
    "That's Karen Lloyd. She works at the bank."
    I looked at the picture as if it might've changed. "She works at the bank?" We exciting L. A. detectives are quick on the uptake.
    "She's got a twelve-year-old boy named Toby. I see her in the market. We used to be in PTA together."
    "This woman lives here, this woman and her son, Toby." Swift, we are.
    "That's right."
    I folded the picture and put it back hi my pocket. Sonofagun. "Karen Lloyd."
    May Erdich nodded. "That's right. She works at the First Chelam. I think she's the manager or something."
    I finished the tea and stood up and May Erdich stood up with me. "Why are you trying to find her? Did she do something bad?" Her eyes were bright and mischievous, thinking how great it would be if someone in town had done something bad.
    I said, "It involves family business, and you won't be doing her a favor if you tell people that a private cop has been asking about her. Do you understand that?"
    May Erdich gave me some Groucho and squeezed my arm. "Secrecy is our motto."
    "Right."
    She led me to the door. "You must be a pretty good detective, all the way from Los Angeles to find somebody here in Chelam."
    I put on the G-2 and went out into the cold. 'That's right. I am. In another life I could have been Batman."

Lullaby Town

NINE
    The First 'Chelam National Bank was a small redbrick building across from the grocery store and next to a place called Zoot's Hardware. There was a single drive-through window for their customers' convenience on the west side of the bank and a small L-shaped parking lot wrapping around the east. Someone had planted a couple of young elms at the edge of the parking lot and their leaves were scattered over the cement. The drive-through window was closed.
    I parked in the lot and went in. A teenage boy was filling out a deposit slip at a long table, and a heavy woman in stretch pants was talking to a teller at a blond-wood counter. An old guy in a gray security guard's uniform was reading Tom Clancy. He didn'tl ook up. There were four windows built into the tellers' counter, but only one teller was on duty. Another woman sat at a desk behind the counter, and behind her were a couple of offices, but the offices looked empty. Neither the teller nor the woman at the desk appeared to be Karen Shipley.
    I gave the woman at the desk a hopeful smile. She was in her late twenties and wore a bright green top under a tweed suit jacket and a little too much makeup. A name plate on her desk said JOYCE STEUBEN. I said, "Excuse me. I'm here to see Karen Lloyd."
    Joyce Steuben said, "Karen isn't in right now. She has a couple of property appraisals, but she should be back around three. Of course, she might come in before then. That's always possible."
    "Of course."
    I left the bank and walked across the street to a pay phone outside the grocery. In L. A., they put phone books three inches thick with the pay phones, but most of the books are stolen and the ones that aren't are defaced. The Chelam book represented something called The Five-Town Area. Chelam, Oak Lakes, Armonk, Brunly, and Tooley's Mill. It was complete and immaculate and was this year's edition, and altogether it was maybe a quarter-inch thick. Karen Lloyd was listed on . . Number Fourteen Rural Route Twelve, Chelam. There were six Lloyds. Three in Tooley's Mill and two in Brunly. Karen was the only Lloyd in Chelam. No Mr. Lloyd. I copied her address along with her phone number and put the book back in its case, still complete, still immaculate. Jim Rockford would've ripped out the page, but Jim Rockford was an asshole.
    I sat on the bench outside Milt's Barber Stylings and wondered at my good fortune. If Karen Lloyd wasi n fact Karen Shipley, maybe I could get this thing wrapped up and be on an evening flight back to L. A. In L. A., I