I let out a breath. Trimble cocked his head to one side, looked at me, asking the question. I mouthed, “My wife.”

“What?” I said. “Are you home?”

Trimble had moved his head away. This was a call he didn’t need to hear in detail, but he had some input just the same. He was shaking his head, indicating that he didn’t want me to tell Sarah anything about what was going on.

The fact was, I didn’t want to tell her anything. First of all, the longer we spoke, the greater chance there was I’d miss the call from Bullock. And second, I might not be able to persuade Sarah not to call the police. She had every right to know what was going on, but right now, I felt the fewer people who knew what was happening, the better the odds we’d get Angie back alive.

“I just got home. The drive coming back didn’t seem all that long. Both the cars are gone, the only one here is Paul, and he says he doesn’t know where anyone is.”

“We’re out,” I said.

“Thanks very much, Captain Obvious. I figured that part out. Where are you? Where’s Angie?”

I looked at my watch. The call could be coming any moment now. There would probably be a call-waiting beep. But would I be able to get to it fast enough? Would I press the wrong button and lose both calls, the way I usually did when I attempted to switch from one caller to another?

“I’m with Detective Trimble,” I said. Maybe I could include some elements of truth in my story. “The one who’s trying to find out who tried to kill Lawrence. He agreed to meet me, answer a few questions. Nancy wants me to do some follow-up, you know?”

“He’s meeting you now? What is it, midnight?”

“You want to meet these people when they can see you, right?”

“And where’s Angie? I tried her cell but couldn’t raise her. You don’t suppose she’s gone out to see Trixie again, do you?”

And I was thinking that I would be thrilled, right about now, for Angie to be visiting with Trixie and being taught how to be the best goddamn dominatrix in the entire world. “Uh, she called me earlier, said her battery was dying, but she was going to a late movie with some friends.”

“I can’t stop thinking about why she might have gone to see Trixie. But I have a theory.”

The line beeped.

“Listen,” I said, hurriedly, “go to bed I won’t be home for a bit but if she’s not home by the time I get there I’ll wait up for her so don’t worry about it I really have to go.”

The line beeped again.