Then Pearson asked Nelson something under his breath, and they fell into a conversation so quiet that even Layla was straining to hear. Pearson seemed to be troubled by its drift, but he nodded and looked more solid than ever, standing on his heels. Nelson reached out and patted his arm, then turned away. As soon as his back was turned, Pearson wiped his face with his hand, then shook his head and returned to the shoes.

I saw Layla watch the interaction and struggle to conceal the worry on her face. Unperturbed, Nelson went into his office and shut the door. I saw my desk phone light up with his extension—he was making a phone call. When he came out again, twenty minutes later, he complimented the crew on their progress in a tone that suggested they could work harder. He did not acknowledge me except to tap my desk when he passed and give me a wink. It was just a wink, but it said: I know who you are and this ridiculous stunt you’re pulling, and I’ll get rid of you if you interfere with the crew finishing this installation, got it? Good. Nice neckline. I felt my cheeks grow warm and then noticed Layla staring at me. It took a long time to stop blushing, and by then the blush had turned to something else, an uncomfortable burning.

FOR THE NEXT TWO NIGHTS, I met Ray after I left the gallery and we debriefed watching the boats in Marina del Rey while eating some kind of foil-wrapped food he’d brought. The air was cool off the gray-blue water, the city at our backs. The grass was spinning itself into straw after a rainless summer, but in the quiet air it looked more golden than dead. Ray talked less than I did. He claimed he was still working on transcribing the interviews, verifying for accuracy every statement that the crew had made. It was important, he told me, not to pass on any falsehoods to Janis.

“Like what?” I said.

“Like Pearson claiming that Brenae didn’t attend one class in the spring semester.”

I was certain that Ray had to be doing something else with his time, too, but I didn’t ask on Wednesday, when he showed up with a sunburn on the left side of his face, clearly from sitting in a car somewhere for hours. What’d you find out about Calvin today? I was tempted to say. My pride kept me silent. This was a professional opportunity for me, and not an inquisition into Ray’s private life. As if through an unspoken mutual pact, we veered from personal questions and kept our conversation focused on the crew, Brenae, and LAAC. I left the car quickly when Ray drove me home.