“When?” Bentz squinted as he looked downward to the shadowy area under the pier where a fisherman was casting out a line and where, if he figured right, Jennifer would have landed when she plunged into the water and disappeared. As far as he knew, the Coast Guard had not recovered the body of a woman in a red dress, so he had to assume the woman impersonating his ex-wife was still very much alive. Ready to haunt him again.

Just as she’d disturbed his dreams.

After doing some work on the Internet, searching for information regarding Alan Gray, he had called Olivia, then watched some mindless television. He’d dozed off with the television on, falling into a restless sleep full of disjointed images of his ex-wife…Jennifer reaching for him from the water in a sopping wet red dress. Jennifer at the wheel of a silver car with smudged plates.

Wanting some closure, some hint of how a woman could leap from such a high vantage point and completely disappear, he had returned to Santa Monica today in search of answers. Today the sky was clear, the sun so bright he was wearing shades against the glare. A soft breeze ruffled the huge fronds of the palm trees near the beach. He checked his watch—his new watch, as his old one had given up the ghost after his swim. “What time do you want to meet?”

“Now would be good,” Hayes said. “Actually, give me thirty or forty minutes. Can you meet me somewhere near the Center? I’m at the office.”

“Sure.” Bentz understood that “the Center” meant Parker Center, LAPD’s headquarters building that housed the Robbery-Homicide Division. What he didn’t get was Hayes’s turnaround. The last he’d heard Hayes would have liked nothing better than to shove him onto the next eastbound 737 headed for New Orleans. Then again, from the professional, nearly distant tone of Hayes’s voice, Bentz was guessing this wasn’t just a friendly lunch date. Hayes wasn’t calling to patch up their relationship.

“How about Thai Blossom on Broadway? It’s not far. Good food. Reasonable.”

“I’ll find it. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when you get there.” Hayes hung up and Bentz was left with a bad feeling.

It wasn’t like Hayes to be cryptic or curt. Something was definitely going on. And definitely not something good. Bentz turned and, using his cane, headed to his car. He was still suffering from his late-night swan dive and swim. His leg was definitely acting up, and he’d already downed double the dosage of ibuprofen this morning, washing the pills down with a large cup of coffee.