"Did Fiona's story affect the investigation?"

"In what regard?"

"All this talk of his past disappearances," I said.

Odessa waved that aside. "Air and sunshine. She says he's gone off before. Maybe so, maybe not. I'm not entirely clear about her motive."

"According to her, she wants results."

"Sure, but who doesn't? We're cops, not magicians. We don't perform miracles."

"Did you believe the story she told?"

"I believe he left her. Whether he was having problems with the current Mrs. P. is anybody's guess." He paused. "Have you met Crystal yet?"

I shook my head.

Odessa lifted his brows and shook his hand as though he'd burned it. "She's a beautiful woman. Hard to picture anyone walking out on her."

"You have a theory?"

"Not me. From our perspective – so far – this is not a criminal matter. You got no crime, then there's no Miranda and no need for search warrants, which makes our job a hell of a lot easier. We're just a bunch of good guys trying to do the family a favor. Personally, I think things look bad, but I ain't gonna say that to anyone else, including you," he said.

I indicated the file. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Wish I could, but this is Paglia's case and he's hell on confidentiality. He doesn't mind us passing on the gist of it when it seems appropriate. The point is to find the guy, which means we cooperate when we can."

"He won't care if I go back and talk to some of these people?"

"You're free to do anything you want."

When he walked me out to the front, he said, "If you find him, let us know. He can stay gone if he wants, but I'd hate to keep putting in the hours if he's off in Las Vegas with a snootful of coke."

"You don't believe that."

"No, I don't. Nor do you."

On the way back to the office, I did a two-block detour and made a stop at the bank. I filled out a deposit slip, endorsed Fiona's check, and waited my turn in line. When I reached the window, I pointed to the account number printed on the face. "Could you verify the balance in this account? I want to be sure the check's good before I make the deposit." Another lesson learned the hard way: I don't start work until a check has cleared.

The teller, Barbara, was one I'd been dealing with for years. I watched while she typed in the account number on her computer keyboard and then studied the screen. She hit the Enter key once. Tap. Again. Tap. I watched as her eyes traced the lines of print.

She looked back at my deposit slip and made a face. "This is covered, but it's close. Want the cash instead?"

"The deposit's fine, but let's do it before another check comes in and leaves her short."

Chapter 3

I returned to the office to find that Jill and Ida Ruth had left a note on my door: "Kinsey – Below is an itemized record of Jeniffer's tardy days, screwups, and unexplained absences. Please add any other incidents you know of, sign this, and leave it on my desk. We think it's best if we present a unified front. We mean business! Ida Ruth."