Milo asked her where she was staying. “I came straight from the airport.” “Did you rent a car?” “I took the shuttle to Westwood, then a cab.” “I’ll get you a place. There’s a victim compensation fund, but it’ll mean more forms and take a while to get compensated.” “I don’t care about that.” Her hands waved restlessly. Milo called Sean Binchy over from the big D-room. Binchy was still poring over lists of construction workers with nothing to report. “Find Ms. Flatt a clean, safe place to bunk down.” Binchy lifted her luggage. “The Star Inn on Sawtelle has the Triple A rating, cable, and wireless and there’s an IHOP right up the block.” “Whatever,” said Ricki Flatt. After the two of them left, I said, “Political, as in baby brother might be an eco-terrorist. It would take more than Backer spouting off for her to worry about that.” “Yeah, she knows more,” said Milo, “but pushing her right now didn’t feel right. I’ll have Sean keep an eye on her, make sure she sticks around.”
