“No. At the speed he was traveling when he hit the water, it would have been like hitting a stone wall. He couldn’t have survived the crash.”

“I assume the bulk of the plane sank. Did it show up on the Coast Guard’s sonar?”

“Yes.”

“Were divers sent down?”

“No. The water in that area is over five hundred feet.”

“How long did it take the Coast Guard to send a ship to the area?”

“I’m not sure. About an hour.”

“That doesn’t sound like a speedy response.”

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Did the Coast Guard see any other boats in the area?”

“You would have to ask them.” Gabe paused and looked uncomfortable. Perhaps he feared his own performance that night was being questioned. “May I ask a question?”

“Sure,” Kelly said.

“What is the FBI’s purpose in investigating this crash?”

“It might have bearing on another case that I’m not at liberty to discuss. Tell me, Gabe, can you think of another reason why Matt’s plane behaved the way it did besides pilot disorientation and panic?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

Again he paused. “Suicide.”

“Come again?”

“He might have been trying to kill himself.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really know him.”

Kelly thought of Amy. “I suppose he might have had his reasons.”

KELLY CONTINUED north to Santa Barbara, to see Nancy Connor. This time she did not call ahead and she had to question her reasons. She had already pulled the record on Mrs. Connor from the computer in her office. The woman was seventy, lived alone, and had no family now that Matt was dead. She apparently subsisted on a small pension her husband had willed to her. To receive an unexpected visit from a stranger—even one with a badge—might intimidate the woman. But Kelly suspected she did not call ahead because she had no idea what excuse to give for her interest in Matt. She just hoped one came to her when the time arrived.

Mrs. Connor lived in a small apartment not far from downtown. Kelly had to ring a few times before she answered. The sight of the old woman took Kelly back a step. She looked like her dead son: with the same intense eyes, the kind mouth, the handsome face that conveyed both strength and fragility at the same time. Kelly immediately glimpsed the woman’s intelligence. She would not be easy to snow.

Did that mean Matt had also been bright?

“Can I help you?” Mrs. Connor asked.

Kelly showed her badge. “Kelly Fienman, FBI. Are you Mrs. Connor?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been working with the kidnapping of Amy Techer’s child. I was told you know about it?”

“Yes. I’m friends with Amy’s father. What can I do for you?”

“May I come in? I would like to ask you a few questions.”