“Go ahead and get a search going there,” she said. “Any place you can think of is worth checking out. Don’t wait to run it past me.”

“Don’t worry,” Garvey said. “That’s the last thing we’d do.”

She let that go. “Also do a deep dive into Coyle’s background. There might be something there that will help us. We need as much evidence as we can get before he’s arraigned on Monday.”

“We’d like to get some sleep first, if you don’t mind,” Biddle said pointedly. “We’ve been up all night watching Coyle’s place.”

“Right, of course, sorry,” Eve said, embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of that. “Let me hitch a ride with you back to the station and then you can go get some rest.”

When they got back to Lost Hills, Biddle and Garvey got out and told her they’d be back in a few hours. She took the keys to their Crown Vic and drove out to Mr. Plunger in Canoga Park.

Eve knew the woman behind the counter was the cheerful voice on the phone the instant she saw her. The woman had a wide-eyed, wide-faced, wide-smiled exuberance that made Eve glad there was a counter between them—it lessened the chance that she would get an unwanted hug. On the wall beside the woman was a big map of the western San Fernando Valley and the communities in and around the Santa Monica Mountains. The map drew Eve’s immediate attention. There were big black-line boundaries drawn on it with a Magic Marker designating Mr. Plunger’s service area: the 118 freeway to the north, Las Virgenes Road to the west, Winnetka Avenue to the east, and south all the way to the Pacific Coast Highway. As far as Eve was concerned, that was also the search parameters for the bodies.

“Hello, I’m Brandy,” the woman said with a big smile that showed off her perfect teeth, giving Eve a painful flashback to her own teenage orthodontic hell of braces and rubber bands. “How can I help you?”

Eve flashed her badge. “I’m Detective Eve Ronin, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. One of your plumbers, Lionel Coyle, has become a person of interest in a missing person investigation. I need to get the names and addresses of all of his service calls for the last twelve months.”

“Sure thing,” Brandy said, turning to her computer terminal. “I’ll print it right out for you or I can email it to you.”

Eve was startled by the immediate positive response. She’d been expecting at least a little pushback on her request.

“How about both?” Eve set her card on the counter. “My email address is on the card.”

“Will do.” Brandy took the card and gestured with a nod to a corner of the room. “Help yourself to some popcorn while you wait.”