Dolan said, "If we'd had some of this new high-tech equipment back then, I bet we'd have found plenty. Hair, fiber, maybe even prints. Nothing neat about this killing. He just happened to get lucky. Nobody saw the murder and nobody spotted him when he toppled her down the slope."

Johanson perked up. "Neighbor down the road-this is C. K. Vogel – I don't know if you remember this, but C. K. seen a light-colored VW van on the particular morning of July 28 up along that road over there. Painted allover with peace symbols and psychedelic hippie signs. Said it was still there eleven o'clock that night. Curtains on the winders. Dim light inside. It was gone the next morning, but he said it struck him as odd. I believe he phoned it in to the Sheriffs Department after the girl was found."

Dolan's skepticism was unmistakable, though he tried to be civil – not an easy task for him. "Probably unrelated, but we'll look into it."

"Said he seen a convertible as well. Killer could've drove that. Red, as I recollect, with an out-of-state license plate. If I was you, I'd make sure to have a talk with him."

I said, "Thanks for the information. I'll make a note."

Johanson looked at me with interest. Suddenly, he seemed to get it: I was a police secretary, accompanying the good detectives to spare them the tedium of all the clerical work.

The breeze shifted slightly, blowing Dolan's smoke in my face. I moved upwind.

"Something I forgot to mention about Miracle," Stacey said. "When we went back to the impound lot and searched Frankie's car, we found soil samples in the floor mats that matched the soil from the embankment. Unfortunately, the experts said it was impossible to distinguish this sample from samples in other quarries throughout the state. West Coast has the most extensive marine deposits in the world."

"I saw that report. Too bad," I said. "What'd Frankie say when you questioned him?"

"He gave us some long garbled tale of where he'd been. Claimed he'd been hiking in the area, but it was nothing we could confirm."

Dolan said, "He was higher than a kite the day they picked him up. Grass or coke. Arrest sheet doesn't say. He's a meth freak is what I heard."

"Everyone under thirty was higher than a kite back then," I said. Mr. Johanson cleared his throat, having been excluded from the conversation too long to suit him. "Being's as you're here, you might want to see the rest of the property. This is the last ranch of its size. Won't be long before they tear down the old house. Probably build subdivisions as far as the eye can see."

My impulse was to decline, but Dolan seemed to spark to the idea. "I'm in no hurry. Fine with me," he said. He gave Stacey a look. Stacey shrugged his assent and then checked for my response.