“Talk to him again. See how he reacts when he finds out you know about his mother.”

Vince nodded and jotted a couple of notes to himself while Mendez briefed the group on their conversation with Gina Kemmer.

“We should sit on her,” he suggested. “She knows more than she’s telling us.”

Dixon nodded. “I agree. Campbell and Trammell take the first watch. I’ll bring a couple of deputies in to take the second. Tony, Vince, bring her in tomorrow and have another conversation with her. Turn up the heat.

“Hamilton, what did you find in Marissa’s phone records?”

“Her last call was to Gina Kemmer on the evening of the murder,” Hamilton said. “Before that, there was a call to the Bordain residence, one to Mark Foster, one to the woman who runs the Acorn Gallery. Nothing really stands out as unusual. These were all people she knew and had friendships with.”

“And the bank records?”

“There was a regular monthly deposit of five thousand dollars from Milo Bordain, her sponsor.”

“That’s sixty grand a year!” Campbell exclaimed. “Shit! I’m taking up finger painting. Bordain will be looking for a new artist to sponsor.”

“There were deposits from the Acorn Gallery. She had a balance of twenty-seven thousand in her savings, three thousand, two hundred fifty-one in checking. The trust account for her daughter has over fifty grand in it.”

“That’s a lot of dough,” Vince said.

“She had very few living expenses,” Dixon said. “The Bordains own the property she lived on. She had a generous allowance.”

“And if she came from money to begin with—” Hicks began.

“So far, there’s nothing from Rhode Island on a Marissa Fordham,” Hamilton said. “And I haven’t found anything in the state of California for Marissa Fordham predating 1981. So far I’d say she didn’t exist in this state before 1981.”

“Milo Bordain thought she might be running from an abusive relationship,” Hicks said. “She might have changed her name.”

Dixon sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Great. I’ll call the pathologist. We need to run her fingerprints.”

“Haley was born in May 1982,” Mendez said. “If Marissa came to California before September ’81 then she wasn’t running from the baby’s father.”

“What’s the latest on the girl, Vince?” Dixon asked.

“She’s being released from the hospital tomorrow. Brain function is normal. There may be some permanent damage to her larynx, but she can talk.”

“What’s she saying?”

“She doesn’t remember being hurt,” Vince said. “But we have to be patient. Her memory could come back over time—or it might never.”

“Can we drug her or hypnotize her or something?” Campbell asked.

“You’ll lose a limb trying to get to her,” Vince said. “My wife will have you for lunch.”

“And pick her teeth with your bones,” Mendez added.

Vince grinned, ridiculously proud. “That’s my girl.”