“Don’t I know it. You ought to hear the stories I get told, people crying in their beer. Tending bar has really warped my point of view. Anyway, lot of people are convinced Violet’s husband did her in, but there’s never been a shred of proof. No body, no car, no evidence either way, so who knows?”

“What’s this have to do with the daughter?”

“Daisy Sullivan’s an old friend. She’s here on vacation, hanging out with me for a couple of days. I grew up in north county, so we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was two years behind me from grade school all the way through high school. She’s an only child, and I’m telling you this business with her mother has messed her up bad.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters, she drinks too much, and when she drinks she flirts and when she flirts she gloms on to the nearest loser. She has terrible taste in men…”

“Hey, half the women I know have bad taste in men.”

“Yeah, well, hers is worse. She’s always looking for ‘true love,’ but she doesn’t have any idea what that’s about. Not that I do, but at least I don’t marry the bums. She’s been divorced four times and she’s sitting on a ton of rage. I’m the only friend she has.”

“What’s she do for a living?”

“Medical transcription. Sits in a cubicle all day long with a headset, typing up all this crap dictated by the docs for their medical charts. She’s not unhappy, but she’s beginning to see how she’s limited herself. Her world’s been getting smaller and smaller until it’s coffin-sized by now. She figures she’ll never get her head straight until she knows what went on.”

“Sounds like this has been going on for years. How old is she?”

“Well, I’ll be forty-three this month, so Daisy must be forty, forty-one… somewhere in there. I can hardly keep track of my birthday, let alone hers. I know she was seven when her mother bugged out.”

“What about her father? Where’s he at this point?”

“He’s still around, but his life’s been hell. Nobody wants to have anything to do with him. He’s been shunned, like that old tribal shit. The guy might as well be a ghost. Listen, I know it’s a long shot, but she’s serious. If he did it, she’s gotta know, and if he didn’t, well think about the service you’d be doing. You have no idea how screwed up she is. Him, too, for that matter.”

“Isn’t it a little late in the game?”

“I thought you liked challenges.”

“After thirty-four years? You gotta be kidding.”