"You call that work?" said Blevins. "All she'd tell me is gentleman's clubs. Like any gentleman would go there."

"Was Selma with her?"

"Selma dropped her off but didn't stick around, probably 'cause I was there, Selma knows how I feel about her."

"Bri doesn't drive?"

"She had a car but it got repo'd." Tight smile. "Guess gentlemen don't pay the bills."

"Do you have any idea where Selma lives?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"Who are Bri's other friends?"

"Her line of work, you don't have friends, you have oglers--oh, excuse me: regulars. That was a big deal to her, she kept trying to impress me with the fact she had regulars. I'm thinking great, some pervert has enough money to waste it on you. But I kept my mouth shut, what's the point?"

"Did she tell you anything about her regulars?"

"Rich, they're always rich, right? With the private jets and the platinum cards. I wanted to say, What, you found an old cassette of Pretty Woman?"

"What else besides rich?"

Blevins ticked off his fingers. "Rich, handsome, young, smart--goes to Stanford. Does that make sense? Stanford's up north, why would a smart person--any person fly down here regularly to watch pole dancing? Like there's no poles in Palo Alto."

"So we're talking one guy in particular."

"Two Stanford guys, one for her, one for Selma. Guess if you're going to fantasize, make it good."

"What else did she say about them?"

"It's actually relevant to something?" said Blevins.

"At this point, that's hard to say, sir. We collect as much information as we can, sift through."

"Doesn't sound too efficient."

"Sometimes it's the only way, Mr. Blevins. So what else did Bri tell you?"

"Two rich guys come in to watch her and Selma dance, soon they're taking her and Selma to Aspen, Vail, I forget which, some ski place. On a private jet, no less. This was months ago, it was summer, she tried to get money out of me for ski clothes. See what I mean? She can't even put together a logical fantasy."

Milo said, "Two guys, one jet."

"Maybe one owns it, the other gets to use it, maybe they're partners--hey, maybe you and I can split a private jet. What brand do you like? I'm a Buick guy, myself--guys, I really need to get to work."

We walked him to his car. Milo said, "Did Brianna ever put a name on these fantasy guys?"

"I'm glad you're getting it: fantasy. Like when after her mother died and she started wanting to be a princess. I told her, 'Look what happened to Diana.'"

"So no names."

"Actually, there was, something with a T. Trevor, Turner? Tristan, yeah Tristan. Like that's a real name. Right out of one of those trash paperbacks her mother used to read."

"Not Tremaine? Or Trey?"

Blevins thought. "Nope, Tristan. Like that opera--Tristan and Isabel."

"What about Tristan's friend?"