"Different johns."

"You took all these?"

"Uh-huh."

Pike said, "You're a piece of shit."

Thomas knew better than to glance up. He knew better than to crack wise or give with an attitude.

I pulled Thomas out of the chair and scrolled down the list - Dana had been photographed with seven different men. When I opened the first series, it showed a milky night shot of Dana outside a bar with an overweight man in a business suit. The angle of the picture suggested it had been taken from the opposite side of the street, and the pale colors indicated some sort of electronic light enhancement had been used instead of a flash. It was obvious by the man's expression he didn't know he was being photographed.

The next series showed Dana, a second young woman, and two older men on a sleek white boat in Marina del Rey. Dana and the other woman were wearing thong bikinis and nose zinc. The angle and graininess indicated the picture had been taken with a long lens, probably from one of the restaurants or apartments that lined the marina.

I opened the first picture in the last series, and saw George Reinnike. The photograph had the same milky quality as the other night shots - the colors bleached with a too-bright wash from the optical enhancer. Reinnike was wearing a plaid, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs buttoned, but no jacket, and a set of car keys was clearly visible in his right hand. Dana was kissing his cheek, but he looked surprised and embarrassed, as if he didn't want this kind of attention in a public place. They were standing by the tail end of a brown Honda Accord, though the way they were standing I couldn't see the dent or the license plate.

Thomas said, "Go on to the next one. I know you can see the plate in one of'm."

The next picture was wider, revealing more of the surroundings. Dana was approaching Reinnike, but had not yet reached him. He was leaning toward the motel, as if caught in the awkward moment when he was deciding how to respond. His dubious expression suggested he was worried she was going to make a scene or ask for more money. I could see the top edge of the license plate, but it was blurry and unreadable.

Thomas said, "Goddamnit, I know I had it. I got one more here. Open it."

The third angle was the widest. Dana was on her toes, with her arms around Reinnike's neck. The dented left rear wheel well and the missing hubcap were obvious. Thomas hadn't remembered the car from a fast glance; he had studied the pictures to choose the best shots for Stephen. The entire license plate was visible, but blurry and unreadable, like a face in the fog.

Thomas leaned closer.

"Shit. I can't read it."

It appeared to be a California plate, but I couldn't be sure.