"I like that Chrysler Cordoba," Raymond said to Luis, pointing to the next box. Luis drew a wobbly-sided egg around the ad for a "77 white, runs/looks great. $895/obo." A telephone number was listed on both ads.

Raymond got up and left the room, returning with the telephone, which he plugged into the wall jack. I pulled up a chair and sat down. Luis continued to circle ads while Raymond placed call after call, inquiring about each car that interested them, making note of the address. When this exercise was complete and they'd culled out the ads of interest, Luis made a list on a separate piece of paper.

Raymond glanced at me. "You have car insurance?"

"Sure."

"What kind?"

I shrugged. "Whatever the state of California requires. I've been thinking I should drop it since my car's dead. Why?"

"You have liability and collision?"

"How do I know? I don't walk around with the details of my car insurance memorized. The policy's up in Santa Teresa."

"Can't your insurance company give you the information?"

"Sure. If they looked it up."

"Might be worth it to get your car fixed if you got collision coverage." Raymond lifted the telephone receiver and held it out to me. "Call 'em."

"Right now?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," I said with an uneasy laugh. I could feel my heart start to bang in my chest. The thumping felt so conspicuous I checked to see if my T-shirt was pulsating in the front. For a moment my mind went blank. I couldn't remember California Fidelity's number, I couldn't remember the contact number Dolan had given me, and I couldn't decide which to try in any event. I took the receiver.

I punched in the 805 area code, hoping for the best. Automatically, my fingers moved across the face of the telephone, dialing CF in a medley of musical tones that sounded like "Mary Had a Little Lamb." I wondered if Dolan had been in touch with Mac Voorhies. Was I going to have my cover blown right here on the spot?

The number rang twice. Darcy answered. I hoped I didn't sound like myself when I said, "May I speak to Mr. Voorhies?"

"Just a moment, please. I'll ring his office." She clicked off. Music played in the background, filling telephone limbo with an orchestrated rendition of "How High the Moon." Inexplicably, the lyrics popped into my head unbidden. I thought about Dawna, wondering how long the cops could hold her. Wounded or not, she was dangerous.

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Mac came on the line. "Voorhies."

"Mr. Voorhies, my name is Hannah Moore. I have car insurance with your company and I wanted to check on my coverage."

There was dead silence. I knew he recognized my voice. Raymond leaned his head close to mine, angling the phone so he could listen to the conversation.