“To protect and serve, that’s our motto,” he said.
Eve pulled the Explorer into the Colters’ driveway and the patrol car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. The front yard was all gravel and cactuses. Eve figured the Colters probably had the lowest water bill on the block. She and Duncan got out and walked to the front door. The two LAPD officers stayed a couple of steps behind them.
Duncan tipped his head to Eve, his signal for her to take the lead, as he almost always did when a woman was involved. It was sexist and irritating but she’d learned to live with it. She leaned on the doorbell. A moment later, the door was opened by a woman Eve assumed was Estelle Colter. She was heavyset and wearing lots of turquoise jewelry.
“Can I help you?” Estelle looked past them to the two police officers and looked nervous. Anybody would be nervous, Eve knew, if cops showed up at their door.
Eve flashed her badge. “I’m Detective Eve Ronin, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, and this is my partner, Duncan Pavone. Does Paul Colter live here?”
Duncan held up Colter’s photo. Estelle glanced at the photo, the concern on her face sharpening.
“Yes, he’s my son,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we talk about it inside?” Eve asked.
Estelle stepped aside for them and Duncan gestured to the officers to stay put. Eve and Duncan walked past her into the house. It had the feel of a home that was professionally decorated. Everything was too perfectly put together, the knickknacks impeccably sized for their spots and all part of a unified, contemporary southwestern theme more fitting for Santa Fe than Sherman Oaks.
“Has he been in a car accident?”
“Why do you say that?” Duncan asked.
“Because he drives for Uber and Lyft and is working right now.”
“What kind of car does he drive?”
“My husband’s old 2019 C-Class.”
Also known to Lost Hills deputies as the Calabasas Corolla. The Mercedes was the perfect car for cruising the streets without being noticed. It might even get him through the resident’s lane at Vista Grande with just a nod to the guard.
Duncan asked, “Do you have his number?”
“Of course,” Estelle said, and gave Duncan the number. He stepped into an adjacent hallway to make the call, mostly for show, and on the off chance somebody else might answer.
Eve gestured to the couch in the living room. “Can we sit down?”
They went into the living room, Estelle taking a seat on the couch and Eve sitting on the edge of a chair that was kitty-corner from her.
“Do you need to talk to Paul?” Estelle asked. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”
Eve held up her phone and showed her photos of Joel Dalander and Greg Nagy. “Do you know these two men?”
“No, I don’t. Who are they?”
“We think they are two of your son’s friends.”
“Oh, is that what this is about? Those men? Whoever they are?”
Duncan came in, sticking his phone in his pocket. “Went straight to voice mail.”
No surprise, Eve thought.
“He doesn’t answer his phone when he has a fare,” Estelle said. “You can try back later. Now, will you please tell me what this is about?”
Duncan said, “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”
“It’s down the hall,” she said. “Second door on your left.”
“Thank you.” Duncan went away on what Eve knew was a pretense to snoop around and also leave her with the painful task of breaking a mother’s heart.
Eve took a deep breath and plowed ahead. “There’s no easy way to say this, Mrs. Colter. Your son was involved in an armed home invasion robbery in Calabasas today.”
Estelle blinked hard and cocked her head, confused.
“I don’t understand. Did it happen to someone Paul dropped off at home? Or do you think he unknowingly gave the burglar a ride?”
“Paul was one of the perpetrators.”
“No, no, no, you’re making a big mistake, it couldn’t possibly be Paul.” Estelle toyed with her turquoise sunburst necklace, running her fingertips over the sharp rays around the intensely blue stone. “He’s not a gang member or a criminal. Call him again in a few minutes, you’ll see.”
Eve lowered her voice, softening her tone. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this. After the home invasion, he carjacked a vehicle, drove to a grocery store, and was shot by a security guard. Your son is dead.”