"We're familiar with her," he said. "She and my niece belong to the same church, or at least they did."

"Yeah, well her mom says she drove to Santa Teresa to see Frankie as soon as we left. I thought he drove back with her, but I'm not sure. She claims he was at work Friday night in Santa Teresa."

"Easy enough to check. You know the company?"

"I don't, but I'm sure Stacey or Dolan will know. You might want to talk to Iona as well. She called Pudgie Thursday night and was really pissed off from what Felicia said." I made a verbal detour, telling him about Iona's belief that Pudgie'd made a deal for himself at Frankie's expense. "Felicia doesn't know if Pudgie went out late Friday night or first thing Saturday morning. She told me a call came in before Iona's, but she has no idea who it was. He answered that one himself."

"I'll talk to Iona soon... maybe later today. Where will you be?" I told him where I was staying. "I'll call the guys as soon as I get back to the motel. This business with Pudgie will be a blow. I'm sure Stacey told you they found his prints on the Mustang. We all assumed he either killed her himself or else knew who did. Now it looks like someone killed him to shut him up."

"The downside of being an accessory," Lassiter said. "Meanwhile, if anything comes up, let us know."

I drove Felicia back to the motel. She was quiet, leaning her head against the seat with her eyes half-closed. She had a tissue in one hand, and I could see her dab at her eyes occasionally. Her lids were swollen and her face was splotchy, her red hair lusterless as though dulled by grief. Whatever weeping she did was silent. Now that she knew the worst, there was something passive in her response, a resignation she must have harbored for years, waiting for the blow.

Finally, I said, "If it's any consolation, people did care about him." She turned and smiled wanly. "You think? I hope you're right about that. He had a sorry life; in jail more times than he was out. Makes you wonder what it means."

"I've given up trying to figure that out. Just don't blame yourself."

"I do in some ways. I'll always think I could have done a better job with him. Trouble is, I don't know if I was too tough on him or not' tough enough."

"Pudgie made his choices. It's not your responsibility."

"You know something? I don't care what he did. He was decent to 1 me. He might have sponged, but he never ripped me off, you know? He's my baby brother and I loved him."

"I know. You belong to a church? I'd be happy to make some calls."