The message was from my friend at the telephone company with a report on the disconnect for S. Blackman, whose full name was Sebastian S., male, age sixty-six, with a forwarding address in Tempe, Arizona. Well, that didn't sound very promising. If all else failed, I could double back and check that out to see if there was any tie to Bobby. Somehow I doubted it. I made a note in his file. There was a certain security in having it all committed to paper. At least that way, if anything happened to me, someone could come along afterward and pick up the thread – a grim notion, but not unrealistic given Bobby's fate.

I spent the next hour and a half going through my mail, catching up on my bookkeeping. A couple of checks had come in and I entered those in accounts receivable, making out a deposit slip. One statement had been shipped back to me unopened, marked "Addressee Unknown. Return to Sender" with a big purple finger pointing right at me. God, a deadbeat. I hated getting stung for services rendered. I'd done some good work for that guy, too. I'd known he was a slow pay, but I didn't think he'd actually stiff me for my fee. I set it aside. I'd have to track him down when I had some time.

It was almost noon by then and I glanced at the phone. I knew there was a call I should make and I picked up the receiver, punching in the number before I lost my nerve.

"Santa Teresa Police Department. Deputy Collins."

"I'd like to speak to Sergeant Robb in Missing Persons."

"Just a moment. I'll connect you."

My heart was thudding in a way that made my armpits damp.

I'd run into Jonah while I was investigating the disappearance of a woman named Elaine Boldt. He was a nice guy with a bland face, maybe twenty pounds overweight, amusing, direct, a bit of a rebel, pirating copies of some homicide reports for me against all the rules. He'd been married for years to his junior-high-school sweetheart, who'd abandoned him a year ago, departing with his two daughters, and leaving him with a freezer full of crappy dinners that she'd done up herself. He hadn't been flashy but I don't look for that anyway and I'd liked him a lot. We'd never been lovers, but he'd exhibited a bit of healthy male interest and I'd taken a dim view of it when he went back to his wife. Face it, I was miffed, and I'd kept my distance from him ever since.

"Robb here."

"Jesus," I said, "I haven't even talked to you yet and I'm already pissed."

I could hear him hesitate. "Kinsey, is that you?"

I laughed. "Yes, it's me and I just figured out how frosted I am."