“I’ve asked Marge to look up Jason Merritt, Maxwell Stewart, and Chase Goddard. See if any of them has ever been in trouble before. It would help to know Goddard’s background before we see him.”

“What’d she tell you?”

“I called her last night.” Decker checked his watch. “It’s seven in the morning on the West Coast. I’m hoping to hear from her in a couple of hours. In the meantime, we can talk to the Summer Village PD, a guy named Chris Mulrooney. They’re done with the search of Latham’s apartment. Mulrooney was generous enough to share what they found . . . which doesn’t look like much so far. We’re meeting with him at eleven.”

“What about Latham’s computer?” McAdams asked.

“The dees didn’t find his computer. They’re trying to find his e-mail server via his phone service but that takes a warrant. They’re hoping to have it today or tomorrow along with his phone and text logs. If he was using a throwaway phone like Angeline, we probably won’t find much, but no stone unturned, right?”

The kid rubbed his eyes. “Do we know that Angeline was definitely using a throwaway phone?”

“We do. Ben Roiters texted me last night during dinner. He found the mobile phone store where she bought her throwaways. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

McAdams’s face darkened. “No prob, boss. What I think doesn’t matter anyway.”

Decker shrugged and finished his bagel. He wiped his hands, put the key in the ignition, and started up the engine. “There’s a CPR class at the hospital this Sunday. It’s given by the local Red Cross. I could use a refresher. Want to come with me?”

“No, I don’t . . .” McAdams stopped himself. “Yeah, sure, why not. I’ll come. Never can tell when a date might choke on a potato chip.” He stared out the window. “Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to come down to the shooting range.”

Decker pulled the car onto the highway. “I’d be happy to give you a few pointers.”

“I don’t own a gun.”

“That can be remedied. I’m most comfortable with a Beretta 92FS or 92F 9 mm: they’re standard LAPD issue. Do you know anything about guns and ammo?”

“Mike taught me a few things about slugs and casings and bullets from different types of guns. Since it hasn’t been remotely relevant to anything I’ve done here, I don’t remember much.”

“It won’t take you long to learn if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested.”

“What about going to the range with me?”

The kid sighed. “Sure.”

“Good. I’ll get a gun for you and we can start whenever you want.”

McAdams clenched his jaw. “I’m having a hard time figuring you out . . . whether you’re friend or foe.”