Frost jumped in at the same time. “Todd gave you videos of places he’s been over the past few weeks. This guy likes to play games. I doubt that anything you saw was in there by accident.”

“Did you recognize specific places in these videos?” Jess asked. “Did he film anything in or near his apartment? Or places he’d worked?”

Frankie was tired, and her mind was slow. She’d watched the videos from Todd Ferris in a marathon fueled by wine, in the midst of an argument with Jason and her usual sparring matches with Pam. Most of what she’d seen was a blur. Restaurants. Bars. Parks. Street scenes.

“There was a choir,” she said.

Jess cocked her head. “What?”

“He took video at some kind of student choral competition. It was in a performing space. I thought it was a little strange. It didn’t fit with the other places he’d visited.”

“Did you recognize the space?” Frost asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’d never been there.”

“What else?” Jess asked.

Frankie tried to think. “A diner. He went there several times. I saw it at least three or four times in the videos on different nights.”

“Nights?”

“Yes, he always went there at night. Late. One of the videos showed a clock, and the time was like two in the morning. I figured he was going there after his tech jobs.”

“So it’s a twenty-four-hour diner,” Frost said. “Any idea where it was located?”

Frankie thought back. She’d seen the greasy spoon in the videos. He’d wanted her to see it. He’d wanted her to remember it. “Red upholstery,” she said, with her eyes closed. “The guy behind the counter had a big, full beard and a lot of piercings. It was near Market, and there was a gas station and a bus stop across the street.”

“I know where it is,” Frost said.

“Is that a taxi driver flashback?” Jess asked him.

“Exactly right. I had a lot of four-in-the-morning meals there when I was driving. It’s Orphan Andy’s in the Castro.” He held out a hand to Frankie. “I could go for some hotcakes. How about you?”

The diner was located on Seventeenth between a funky card shop and a tattoo parlor. The time of the night didn’t matter. It was crowded. They found two seats together at the counter, under a Tiffany-style overhead lamp. Frost ordered banana hotcakes, and Frankie, who realized she was starving, ordered stuffed French toast. She watched Frost study the diner with a mixture of nostalgia and curiosity.

“It hasn’t changed at all,” he said. “I don’t see Woody, though. I wonder if he still works here. Woody’s the guy with the beard. You can’t miss him.”