He’d only gotten a few hours’ sleep, but in the light of day the cheap motel room looked more alien and inhospitable than ever. Why was he still here, chasing some impersonator when his wife needed him back home, was possibly in jeopardy?

Still in bed, Bentz reached for his cell phone on the nightstand and called Jonas Hayes. The call switched to voice mail, and he left a message that he was out of here, headed home. Easing out of bed, Bentz knew it was the right thing to do, the only thing to do.

He dragged himself into the shower and stood in the hot stream of water, ignoring the razor. Then, feeling almost alive, he wrapped a towel around his waist and started slamming clothes into his bag. He knew leaving L.A. wasn’t a great idea. It would look suspicious if, after all his protests about being innocent, he took a jet out of California the day after Lorraine’s body had been discovered.

Too bad.

He’d spent most of the night and the early morning hours laying out his notes at Hayes’s office in the Center. So now LAPD was officially in charge of the investigation of Jennifer’s death. Jonas had made a copy of everything, including his photographs, his list of Jennifer’s acquaintances, plate numbers, addresses, and phone contacts. Bentz had given them a blow-by-blow of the events that had happened since he’d landed in Los Angeles less than a week earlier.

“You sure cut a big swath,” Bledsoe had observed, his smile twisted when he’d arrived for the morning shift. “Anyone who talks to you ends up dead.”

“Up yours, Bledsoe,” Bentz had said, his hackles up. “Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to kill Lorraine, then call the police?”

“I just think you bring a string of bad luck, that’s all.” Bledsoe had backed down a bit.

Dawn Rankin had showed up at the station just as Bentz had been leaving. She’d managed a cool smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. But that was expected. She and Bentz had been lovers and their breakup years before hadn’t gone well.

At all.

Their affair had been hot, stormy, and cut short because of Jennifer. Dawn had never forgiven him and made no bones about it. That she had smiled at all was something.

While at the station he’d also passed on the name of Jennifer’s dentist, in case Hayes could manage to get the body exhumed. Finally, some progress. Now, rubbing a towel over his wet hair, Bentz wondered if Jennifer’s X-rays would match the teeth of the remains buried in that coffin. One way or the other at least one question would finally be resolved…