“First off, we’re talking about two individuals. It would have taken a couple of strong adults to get the dogs in the trunk. And maybe someone smarter than Partridge. Eckel’s looked at the gate over at the Brookwood lot, where Steve parked his car. The doers broke through the gate with something more sophisticated than bolt cutters. Must have been a keypad reader to reproduce the numerical code. Same guys managed to remotely overheat the circuits on the parking lot’s surveillance camera, so we don’t have pictures.”

“You’re kidding? What kind of people know how to do that? How’d they get into the car trunk?”

“Wasn’t a crowbar. I’ve seen talk in online chat rooms about hacking keyless locks. My guess, that’s what happened here. Whoever these guys are, they’re technically skilled.”

Mahler massaged his temple again. “Psychiatrist said the victim was around someone smart. Have we located Benjamin Thackrey?”

“Not yet. He owns several houses in the Bay Area—Los Altos and San Francisco. I haven’t found anything local. No record of a Thackrey paying county property taxes. But I’ll keep looking.”

“By the way, while I was poking around online, I came across a few interesting things about this guy. I’d heard of him. He was a sort of celebrity in high-tech circles. And I remembered he’d been involved in some trouble a few years ago. Thackrey was single and incredibly rich. Which made him an eligible bachelor. So he’s into the whole San Francisco party scene. At some point, that scene includes a trust-fund girl named Reggie Semple. Old San Francisco family, but the girl’s a train wreck. Serious coke habit and a taste for bad boys. One night she gets into a cab in Pacific Heights and is never seen again. SFPD investigates. The father offers a reward, but the woman disappears, and no one’s charged with anything.”

“And Benjamin Thackrey?”

“Was her live-in boyfriend. But San Francisco Homicide couldn’t find any direct evidence to connect Thackrey to the disappearance. And after the Semple investigation, Thackrey kept a lower profile.”

“We’ve got to find this guy.”

“I’m working on it.” Coyle drank his coffee. “By the way, with Steve out, we need some help. We can’t wait around.”

“I was thinking of bringing in Tim Frost from Gang Crimes.”

Coyle held up one hand. “Rivas and Frost got into it a few years ago when they arrested that guy Quintero. Something about lost evidence. Still bad blood there. How about Ken Holland from Narcotics? Been around a while. You won’t have to tell him what to do. And I heard he wants to come over to us anyway.”

“The kid who wears a stocking cap all the time?”

“He’s good on his feet. Solid arrest record. He and Steve are buddies. Might take some of the sting out of his replacement.”