I hung up and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. This was not the kind of hotel that offered complimentary robes (hell, I felt lucky they offered complimentary toilet paper!), so I pulled on a sweatshirt. I thought about it briefly and pulled on my jeans. By then, I could see headlights arc across the drapes. I turned off the lamp and crossed to the window, peering out as Frankie's white pickup pulled into a slot two doors down. Iona was at the wheel. She waited in the truck with the engine running, probably trying to keep warm, while Frankie got out on the passenger side and slammed the door. I said, "Great. Wake everybody up. I'll feel safer that way."

I watched him check room numbers until he got to mine. As soon as he was close, I slid the window open a crack. "Hello, Frankie."

"Hi. Can I come in?"

"No."

"Come on. I can't stand around out here. It's fuckin' cold."

"I don't need a weather report. I know it's cold. You want to talk, I'm listening, but get on with it."

"All right," he said, irritably. He paused to light a cigarette. Despite the low-watt outside lighting, I could see him clearly – the brown wavy hair, the smooth baby face. He peered over his shoulder, his manner embarrassed. "I heard about Pudgie. I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with it."

"Good for you."

"Don't you want to know the rest?"

"Sure."

"The cops have already been around-Lieutenant Dolan and some pal of his. I thought my landlord was talking about you, but he said it was an old guy."

"Stacey Oliphant."

"That's him."

"They're good guys. They're fair. You should be talking to them."

"I hate cops. What pigs. I'd rather talk to you."

"What for? I'm just going to turn around and ask you the same questions Lieutenant Dolan would have asked."

"You want to know where I was Friday night, right? I was in Santa Teresa, working my regular shift. Eleven to seven. And that's the truth."

"I thought you were down here with Iona."

"Who told you that?"

"Weren't you with her when she called and talked to Pudgie Thursday night?"

"Sure, but I left Friday morning and drove back to Santa Teresa."

"Anybody see you at work?"

"Two-thirty in the morning, I'm moppin' floors, not entertaining the troops. Reason I like the job is it's quiet and nobody's there to hassle me."

"You were completely alone."

"At that hour? Of course. Who's going to be there? The place's all locked up."

"I don't know. Someone else on the cleaning crew? A lawyer working late? A building that size can't be empty."