"This is fine." I tucked my Smith-Corona on the floor, tossed my duffel in the rear seat, and got in. I tried hauling the door shut, but the hinges responded sluggishly and refused to budge. Dolan finally reached across me and gave the door a yank. It closed with a thunk. I wrestled with the seat belt, jerking until I'd pulled sufficient length to reach the catch and snap it down. I spotted a fresh pack of cigarettes on the dash. "I hope you don't intend to smoke."

"Not with the windows closed."

"You are so considerate. You have a map?"

"In the side pocket. I thought we'd go the back way. I'd take the 101 to the 405 and hit the 5 from there, but I with my bum ticker, I don't want to risk the freeway in case I die at the wheel."

"You're really making me feel good about this."

Dolan turned onto the 101 heading south while I flapped at the California map and refolded it into a manageable size. By my estimate, Peaches was ninety miles away, roughly an hour and a half. Happily, Dolan didn't like chitchat any more than I did. I sat and stared out the window, wondering if love would blossom between Henry and Mattie.

The coastline looked smoky. There was a harsh light on the ocean, but the surf was calm, advancing toward the shore in long, smooth undulations. The islands were barely visible twenty-six miles offshore. Steep hills sloped down to the highway, the chaparral a dark mossy green, flourishing after a wet autumn and the long damp winter months.

In many sections of the hillside, the vegetation had been overtaken by thick patches of cactus shaped like Ping-Pong paddles, abristle with thorns. I've always thought California prisons could discourage escape by seeding the surrounding landscape with vicious plants.

Missing prisoners could be located by their howls of dismay and could spend their stay in solitary confinement picking thorns out of their heiniebumpers.

After twenty minutes, I glanced at Dolan. "You have kids?"

"Naw. Grace used to talk about it, but it didn't interest me. Kids change your life. We were fine as is."

"Any regrets?"

"I don't spend a lot of time on regrets. How about you? Are you planning to have kids?"

"I can't quite picture it, but I won't rule it out. I'm not exactly famous for my relationships with men."