“Are you kidding? I spent some time in LA, so Fallen Angels was right up my alley. I’d read your book way before we met. Is it out of line to assume you’re helping look for Angela?”

“Why would you assume that?”

He put his helmet on and tapped the plastic with his finger. “Lakshmi and you together? Had to be retracing Angela’s last day. How can I help?”

“I’m trying to get another angle on Chapman’s personality, and I know she thought of you as a friend. If you have some time—”

“I’d love to,” he said, unlocking his bike, “but I’ve got to run home, then drop by work. Can I call you tonight, or maybe even tomorrow?”

Caitlin couldn’t wait another day. She helped him back his bike out of the rack. “This won’t take long. What if I give you a lift?”

His smile returned. “Great idea.”

“Tell me about your time in LA,” she said, leading him toward the parking lot. She wanted him distracted until they were on the road. Branford gladly covered his part-time work in a Hollywood pizza place, his makeup gigs on independent horror films, and the two touring acting gigs that shaped his decision to attend grad school—a children’s theater tour of the southwest and a national tour of Oklahoma.

Once they’d wedged his bike into the rental’s hatchback and pulled out, Caitlin started with a few entry-level Chapman questions: What was Angela like in class? Did she ever seem sad or afraid of anyone? Had she spoken about a boyfriend?

Each of Branford’s answers sounded authentic but hummed with nervous energy. He stopped to give a direction. “Turn south here—when the light changes, obviously.”

Caitlin looked over, saw him staring at her, amused.

“You’re building up to it, aren’t you, Caitlin?”

She checked the traffic signal, still red. “Building up to what?”

He shook his head. “We met two weeks ago, but you’ve come to find me now, which means you must have discovered something you need an answer to, something only I can give.”

The light changed and Caitlin turned the corner. “Maybe.”

He wagged his finger. “Then you hunted me.”

“Hunted you?”

“Sure, cornered me outside my class, offered me a ride, killed time with small talk, then played with me in your lair until I couldn’t escape.”

Caitlin pulled over to the side of the road. “Whoa, Chad, I hope you don’t feel like my hybrid is a lair. If you’d like to get out—”

He laughed. “Are you kidding? This is great. I love being hunted.”

“Never thought of myself as a hunter before,” Caitlin said, pulling back into traffic. “No offense to you, but you might be the smartest actor I’ve ever met.”

He drummed his hands on his thighs. “Let’s get your question out of the way.”