“I wasn’t cheating. My wife and I were having problems. Debbie was doing her own thing and so was I. I met Kat at Leonardo’s — the one on Ventura that closed down. Kat found out about Debbie when Debbie called my cell at Kat’s place. Debbie was cool with the whole thing but Kat told me she didn’t want to be space-filler and kicked me out. I didn’t blame her.” A curling thumb brushed a tear duct. “This is so incredibly sad. She was a nice girl.”

First time anyone had used that adjective to describe Kat.

I said, “You parted on friendly terms.”

“Of course,” said Browning. “Kat was right about not wanting to be used. I told her I was sorry. She said she forgave me but we both knew it could never be the same.”

“Did you see her after that?”

Tucking bristly beard hairs into his mouth, he chewed. His eyes shifted to the left. “Not often.”

Milo and I waited.

“Don’t tell my wife, okay?” said Browning.

“She’s not cool with it anymore.”

“We’re back together. Expecting our first in two months.”

“Congrats,” said Milo. “How often did you and Kat see each other after the breakup?”

“We didn’t really see each other,” said Browning. “Not in the sense of a consistent relationship.”

“But…”

Browning flashed what he considered a charming smile. “There were a couple weekends — retreats thrown by the firm.” He glanced around the warren. The symphony of computer clicks hadn’t slowed when we entered and no one was watching us now.

Milo said, “Where were the weekends and when did they take place?”

“Palm Springs and Mission Bay. As for the when…” Browning consulted his day planner. Read off dates.

Nine weeks ago and less than a month ago.

“Did she drive down and meet you or did you travel together?”

“Palm Springs she drove herself. San Diego, we went together. Please don’t tell Debbie. We’re happy now, it would be disruptive.”

“No doubt,” said Milo.

“Look,” said Michael Browning, “I’m being totally open with you. Even if I had reason to lie, I wouldn’t because I’m no good at it. Debbie says I’m one big poker tell.”

Milo asked where he’d been the night Kat disappeared.

Another page flip through the planner. The color leached from Browning’s cheeks. Milo took the book. “Says here ‘meeting, year-end deductions, TL.’ What’s that stand for?”

“Code,” said Browning.

“For what?”

“Is it really important?” Browning asked.

“Now it is,” said Milo.

“Sir, I’d never hurt Kat. Nothing but affection ever passed between us.”

“Until she booted you out.”

“When we were together it was always loving. I swear. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t lie and I have no reason to. A part of me might’ve loved Kat. I certainly wouldn’t hurt her.”

Milo said, “TL.”