A few hours later, she had several hundred pins on the map, and was beginning to see the densest number of calls were in Calabasas, Topanga, and Malibu, when her iPhone rang. She found the phone under the Mr. Plunger printouts and glanced at the screen. It was her mom calling. Her first instinct was to dismiss the call but for reasons she would never understand, she answered it.

“Hey, Mom. Let me guess. You saw the press conference.”

“It was your best performance yet.”

“It wasn’t a performance,” Eve said.

“You came across as a confident, capable detective.”

“I like to think that’s because I am,” Eve said.

“You were racked with self-doubt and insecurity.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Eve said, plucking cold chow mein noodles from the still-open container and eating them. “What makes you say that?”

“When Kate Darrow nailed you with that ‘senseless’ question, you looked away. When you’re sure of yourself, you like to stare people down. Trust me, I’ve seen that stare enough to know.”

Eve was embarrassed that she had such an obvious tell and wondered if that was what Coyle had spotted in the interrogation room.

“It was the glare of TV lights,” Eve said. “They were hurting my eyes.”

“You don’t lie enough to be good at it, honey. You’ve got problems with your case but don’t worry, it’s not going to hurt the chances of you becoming a TV movie.”

“That’s not something I care about.”

“You will if you get fired. It will be found money.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Eve said.

“You could learn a few things from Rebecca Burnside about wardrobe and makeup. Why can’t you dress like her?”

“Because I work on the street and she works in a courtroom, which is a lot like being on stage. The audience she plays to is the judge and jury. Doing a press conference is just an extension of that performance. She’s facing potential jurors. I’ve got to dress for what I do. I can’t chase bad guys in high heels.”

“I’m impressed,” Jen said. “You pretend that you aren’t playing to an audience but you are. Now I get it. You’ve chosen to dress the way you do, and to ignore your hair and makeup, because you’re creating a distinct character.”

“I’m not creating anything. It’s who I am, Mom.”

“You mean you’re consistently staying in character. Very sharp. I’m not sure I agree with your creative choices, but I admire what you’re doing. You’re more like me than you think.”

“You’re reading me all wrong,” Eve said, but without much of a fight behind it. Her mother had made a very convincing argument. What if she was right? It was too disturbing to contemplate.

“I love you, hardnose.” Jen made a kissing sound into the phone. “Get some sleep.”