She waved the cane again.

Don't be silly. She got over all that, got herself a good job, and she's doing just fine, thank you very much. Jonna's my good baby. We don't talk about Yvonne. She knows I won't have it.

Where is she?

I guess she's at home.

We just left her place. It looked like she moved out.

Mrs. Hill seemed confused.

Maybe she thought you were from the credit. She was here just a little while ago, and told me she was going right home.

Something in her casual certainty made me wonder if we were talking about the same thing.

She went back to Hollywood?

What's down in Hollywood?

Her apartment.

She doesn't live in Hollywood. She lives right over here by the reservoir.

I could see it in the clarity of her eyes. Sara Hill was telling me the absolute truth as she knew it. Her daughter had successfully lied to everyone.

Then her eyes grew smaller and blinked.

You're not from the credit, are you? She was so afraid someone would come after her she thought she might have to hide.

I gave her a smile I did not feel.

I'm not from the credit. Tell me where Jonna lives. I'll find out why she's afraid.

Chapter 39

JONNA HILL had rented a small bungalow not much larger than Angel Tomaso's garage, less than a half-mile from her mother. Pike stayed with Sara to prevent her from warning her daughter, so I drove to Jonna's alone. I didn't know what I expected to find, but she was getting ready to leave.

The white Neon was parked at the side of the house with its trunk open like a hungry mouth. The woman I knew as Ivy Casik was carrying an armful of clothes toward the car when I pulled into her drive. She didn't recognize me at first because she stood with the clothes, staring, and then I got out.

Hi, Jonna. Remember me?

She dropped the clothes and ran toward her door. I closed on her fast, but she reached the door, and for no reason I knew then or now, she turned hard for the street. Maybe she was so scared all she thought was to run and keep running.

I tackled her in the front yard, and the two of us tumbled into the baked earth and dead grass. She punched and gouged, pumping her knees to get away until I locked her elbow.

Stop it, Jonna stop!

I told the police about you! I'll call them again!

C'mon. I know you're Yvonne's sister. Stop.

She finally stopped, sucking air with a whimpering sound that wasn't quite crying.

I pulled her to her feet, then brought her inside, where she sat with her face in her hands. Several pictures of Yvonne Bennett were pushpinned to the wall, most showing the two of them as children together, Jonna much smaller because Yvonne was older, Jonna unsmiling even then, Yvonne with an arm protectively around her shoulders. Jonna had already taken down a few, but some were still up.