Frames could hear Rivas coaxing Bennett, letting the guy throw himself over the edge. “But it wasn’t funny to you, was it?” Frames said.

“I just wanted a straight answer, and the more I asked, the more games she played.”

“Drove you crazy, didn’t it? She was just a young girl.”

“I was the one taking all the risks, with everything to lose.”

“So last week was the first time you saw her in a while? What happened?”

“We talked. I said I wanted to see her. But she wouldn’t…commit.”

“Did things get a little physical?” Rivas asked. “You grabbed her, to get her attention?”

“No, I did not do that.”

“She hit her head. It wasn’t intentional. It just happened.”

“No, I told you. I—did—not—hurt—Elise.”

Something there, Frames thought. Too much denial. How much more can we get from this guy before he asks for a lawyer? “What kind of car do you drive?”

“What? A Lexus. Why?”

“How about your wife?”

“Lincoln Navigator. You haven’t answered my question.”

“You know anyone who owns a vintage Mercedes? Early sixties?”

“No.”

“Where were you Monday evening?” Rivas asked.

“Monday? I was home. I had dinner with Lynn and the kids.”

“All evening?”

“Yes.”

That last bit was too quick, Frames thought. Bennett’s eyes sought the safety of the wall behind them. “Your wife’ll confirm that?” Frames asked.

“My wife? Is that really necessary?” Bennett tried Rivas but gave it up. “Okay. I went out later for…something.”

“Something? What was it?”

“It’s not important. I was gone for maybe an hour. I went out about ten and was back by eleven.”

“Where’d you go?”

“It’s not relevant…and you know what?” Bennett folded his arms across his chest. “That’s all I’m going to say. I want to speak to my attorney.”

Frames watched Bennett sitting stiffly in his chair, as if bracing himself against an approaching wave.

Rivas pushed himself up and stood to face Bennett. “Tell your attorney to meet you here. And tell him or her we’re seeking warrants to search your car, your office, and your home. You understand?”

“My home?” Bennett looked stricken. “Come on, guys. Between us, can you give me a little latitude here? Can I at least talk to my wife first?”

Rivas stared at Bennett and waited. “I need you to answer for the recording.”

Bennett sat back in his chair. “Yes,” he said softly.

(ii)

(WEDNESDAY, 3:00 P.M.)

They were in Thackrey’s home in Dry Creek Valley, a half hour north of Santa Rosa. Thackrey sat in a leather chair, facing an open French door that looked out to the back lawn. He threw a tennis ball to the two dogs waiting on the lawn. “She was scared Monday night. Elise…she was scared.”