She told him as she put on the kettle for tea.

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

“So you could spit blood on him? Come off it, David.” She reached up and pulled the Yellow Pages off the top of the refrigerator. “I think this whole thing’s strange. Guys coming out from San Diego looking us up. Really.”

David twisted slowly around in his chair. “If this Stevens guy is in his fifties, maybe he knew Barky back before we were born.”

Ashley nodded grimly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, I sincerely doubt they’re lawyers.”

“How come?”

“Paranoia, maybe. I don’t know. I got the license number of Carruthers’s car.”

“You know his name, and he gave you his business address—”

“Could be fakes.”

“You really are paranoid.”

“Looking at you, David, it’s hard not to be.”

Using the old black phone next to the refrigerator, Ashley dialed the car rental agency advertised on the bumper of the black Pontiac Jeremy Carruthers had parked in the dirt driveway.

A polite woman answered, and Ashley asked if there was any way she could trace one of their cars through the license plate number. “Guy ran over my dog,” she said.

“I’m sorry, miss, but that information is confidential. Incidentally, it would take us days to locate the lessor through the car’s license plate. Is your dog all right?”

“He’s at the vet’s right now. Thanks, anyway.”

David shook his head, battered though it was. “Hell of a detective you’d make, Ash.”

“I’m calling San Diego.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Carruthers said someone’d be there.”

Nevertheless, she was surprised when, after four rings, a male voice said, “Carruthers and Stevens.”

“Well, what do you know.”

“I beg your pardon? May I help you?”

She leaned against the refrigerator. “I’d like to speak with Jeremy Carruthers, please.”

“He isn’t in. This is Saturday—”

“But he works there?”

“Yes, of course.”

She still didn’t believe it. “Tall guy? Dark hair, green eyes—”

“May I ask who this is?”

“Oh, just a friend. Is Mr. Carruthers in San Diego this weekend?”

Silence.

“Sir?”

His voice was very grave. “Just what’s this all about?”

“He’s a lawyer, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and he’s also my son. If you don’t mind, I would like an explanation for this phone call.”

His son. Ouch. Ashley tugged the rubber band out of her hair, which was mostly tangles now. “Is MacGregor Stevens the Stevens in Carruthers and Stevens?”

“I have no intention of continuing this conversation without an adequate explanation.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Dammit, woman—”

Ashley hung up.

David rose stiffly from the table. His face went white and he grabbed his chair, but he didn’t complain. “Carruthers checks?”

“So far.”

“Should have asked if either of them has a client named Sarah Balaton or hired a blond goon to come after us. As far as I can see, they’re our best leads.”

Ashley sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll call Caroline and see if she found out anything.”