“That’s just great,” he said. For once, maybe Rena should have shielded the truth.

“Are you going to ask her?” Rena asked.

“That would be fucking uncomfortable,” he said.

“No pun intended,” Rena murmured.

A.L. sighed. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”

“Messy but not a mess. There’s a difference. Life is messy. But you did the right thing in stepping back from the conversation, not saying something that you’d be sorry for later. By 2:30, I’ll have locked up all the weapons in your apartment and it will be fine.”

“You’re making jokes at a time like this.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I won’t shoot him. I won’t strangle him. I don’t even know his last name.” They took another ten steps. “I should probably know that. Christ, I don’t want her to have to lie to me.”

“That’s right. You don’t,” Rena said. “Maybe you should call Tess. Get some advice from her.”

“She’d say something like, ‘The best things happen when people listen with their hearts.’”

“That’s nice,” Rena said.

“Maybe. Anyway, I don’t need to call her. This is between Traci and me.”

Rena put her hand on his arm. “You’re wrong, A.L. This is between you, Traci and John.”

“I’m not ready for somebody else to be part of the equation.”

“Yeah, but it looks as if your daughter is.”

Twenty

He had more than four hours before he had to talk to his daughter. And he very much needed to get his mind off that conversation. He was grateful when his cell rang and he saw that it was Dusty Frogg’s number. “It’s her,” he said, motioning for Rena to listen. “Detective McKittridge,” he answered.

“This is Dusty. Returning your call.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. As I mentioned in my message, I’m a detective with the Baywood Police Department. Also on the line is Detective Morgan. We have an interest in talking with your son about an ongoing police investigation and wondered if you’d be able to assist me.”

“Coyote?” she asked.

The file had indicated only one child of Trapper and Dusty Frogg. But perhaps she’d had other children after she’d left Trapper. “Yes, Coyote Frogg.”

“Coyote and I aren’t close,” she said.

“When’s the last time you were in contact?” A.L. asked.

“It’s always been off and on. I’d hear from Coyote once in a while when his dad was still alive. I don’t think Coyote ever told his dad. Then after his dad died, he called me a few times.”

“So that would have been in the last couple of years.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“When he called after his dad died, do you recall where he was living?”