“Gotta be some kind of tie-in … okay, brace yourselves, Phil and Frank. If I can get backup, I’ll have them both watched. If not, I’ll start with Phil because his hours are more flexible. Plus, he’s married to the real Connie and I can see some disgruntled husband pulling something like that.”

“No DUIs on Phil’s record.”

“None on Frank’s, either, but big deal, could be luck. Like Phil’s the night he passed the Breathalyzer.” He laughed. “Luck on top of the sperm club. Okay, sweet dreams, if there’s something to clue you in on I will.”

The call that came through at eleven a.m. wasn’t from him. Blocked number, straight to my private line.

“Doc, this is Moe Reed. L.T. asked me to tell you he got called downtown, doesn’t know for how long.”

“Trouble?”

“If you call a statistics meeting trouble.”

“He’s been avoiding that for a while.”

“Chief calls you personally and … expresses his opinion, you don’t avoid.”

“Thanks, Moe. Anything else?”

“Chief woke him at six a.m.,” said Reed. “Some way to start your day.”

I plugged each Suss twin’s name into several search engines, cross-referencing with Topanga, Pacific Palisades, Malibu, a couple of West Valley towns. Nothing.

At noon, I walked down the kitchen stairs, crossed the garden to Robin’s studio, stopped to feed the fish. She was studying the same guitar top, holding it to the light, tapping at various spots, running a finger along the outer contours. To my eye, she hadn’t done much to it. Ten feet away, Blanche snoozed on her doggy bed.

“What’s up, honey?”

“Milo’s tied up, I thought I’d take another look at Philip Suss’s house.”

She picked up a chisel, wiped the blade, set it down. “I’ll keep you company—don’t be so shocked. Why not?”

“For one, it’ll be boring.”

“With me to keep you company? Now I’m insulted.”

“I’ll be fine, you’ll be in a stupor.”

She looped an arm around my waist. “I shouldn’t be carving, anyway. Too distracted.”

“By what?”

“Her. I know there’s no rational reason, but sometimes I get tired of ignoring how I feel. What’s the second reason?”

“What second reason?”

“You said ‘for one.’ What’s two?”

I had no comeback.

She said, “There you go. With me along, we can pass for a loving couple, you’ll be less likely to be mistaken for a weirdo snooper.”

“Guess I won’t need my greasy raincoat and my Groucho nose.”

“The nose could be cute but definitely no coat.”

She propelled me toward the door. Blanche awoke, stretched, yawned, flexed her ears, then bulldog-bounced after us.

“You’re sure you want to do this? It’ll probably end up a whole lot of nothing.”

“Cheer up,” said Robin. “It’ll be fun. Or at least different.”