"That sounds doable. What flights do you have to Los Angeles after six P.M.? I know about the United flight at 8:30. Is there anything else?"

"I show a United at 6:57, arriving in Los Angeles at 7:45."

I was taking notes as she spoke. "Oh wow, thanks. This is great."

Somewhat testily, the travel agent said, "You want to book one of these or not?"

"I'm not sure. Let's try this. Say I had a few bucks in my hot little hand. Where else could I go?"

"After six P.M. weekdays?" she said, drily.

"Exactly."

"You could try Laughlin, Nevada, though there aren't any flights into Laughlin-Bullhead unless you want to fly charter."

"Don't think so," I said.

"There's always Reno – Lake Tahoe. The same airport services both."

"Could you..."

"I'm doing it," she sang, and again I could hear her tapping her computer keys. "United Airlines departing Santa Teresa at 7:55, arrives San Fran 9:07 P.M., departs 10:20, arriving in Reno at 11:16. That's all there is."

"I'll call you back," I said, and hung up. I circled the word "Reno," thinking about Reba's former cellmate, Misty Raine, allegedly living up there. If Reba were on the run, it might make sense to try connecting with a friend. Of course, consorting with a known felon was a parole violation, but she was already racking them up, so what was one more to her?

I dialed directory assistance in Reno, the 702 area code, and asked the operator for a listing under the last name Raine. There was one: first initial M, but with no address listed. I thanked her and hung up. I drew a second circle around the word "Raine," wondering if Reba had been in touch with Misty since her release. I picked up the phone again and dialed the number I'd been given for M. Raine. After four rings, a mechanical male voice said, "No one is home. Please leave a number." So uninformative. I really hate that guy.

At 4:30, I drove back to the Lafferty estate. As I pulled into the parking pad, I was happy to note Lucinda's car was gone. Rags was asleep in a wicker chair, but he roused himself to greet me, sitting at my feet politely while I rang the bell. When Freddy let me in, Rags took the opportunity to slip inside. He followed as Freddy led me to the library where Nord was entrenched on the sofa, propped up against a mass of bed pillows and covered with a throw. He said, "I had Freddy bring me down. I couldn't stand another minute upstairs." Rags jumped up on the sofa, walked the length of Nord's body, and sniffed at his breath.

I said, "You look better. You have some color in your cheeks."

"It's temporary, but I'll take what I can get. I'm assuming you've learned something or you wouldn't be back so soon."