“Oh, just swell, thanks,” Medina snarked, slumping into his chair. “Nothing I like more than a table for one during the lunch rush. I must’ve looked like a guy whose blind date had taken one look at him through the window and decided not to bother. Although I definitely can recommend the clásico ceviche if you do decide to join me next time.”

“Sounds a lot better than the carne asada I picked up at the burrito stand.”

Medina looked at Pryce, crossed his arms. “How was it?”

“Not too great, to be honest. It’s definitely given me a touch of heartburn.”

“Not the freakin’ burrito, you moron. The chat with the girl. You know, the cute blonde with the tattoos who had you all spooked earlier. You gonna tell me what that was all about?”

Pryce sighed. Truth and lies. He decided to split the difference.

“Her father was an old school friend of mine. Seems he got himself into a bit of bother years back and changed his name. The kid’s just found out and managed to track me down, wanted to find out if I knew what trouble he had been in, but it was after I knew him. Turns out the guy’s dead now, so nothing to worry about. No big deal.”

Medina looked doubtful but didn’t push it. He logged onto his computer and groaned.

“Aww man, have you seen this shit all over the internet?” He turned the screen around so Pryce could see the website of a well-known newspaper.

Pryce nodded. “Yeah, I saw it.”

The media had gotten wind of the arrest, and subsequent release, of a suspect. They’d also found out details of Amy Ong’s injuries and knew she was working as a prostitute and had been pregnant at the time of her death. There was no mention of Frank Sherman’s name anywhere in the coverage. Pryce suspected he had traded the information in return for his name being kept out of the papers. As well as a nice big tip fee, of course.

Pryce knew the insurance salesman wouldn’t follow through on his threat to sue the department—too much unwanted publicity for a guy already trying to save his marriage—but it looked like he had managed to hit pay dirt all the same. Pryce was willing to bet Sherman would be cruising the streets later, looking for a good time, with a fifth of whiskey in his pocket and a wad of bills stuffed in his wallet.

Medina turned his computer screen back around. “I’m going to give ViCAP another shot, even though we’ve had nothing so far.”

The FBI’s Violent Criminal Apprehension Program—or ViCAP, as it was more commonly known—was used by state and local law enforcement to identify possible links between seemingly unconnected violent crimes such as homicides and sexual assaults.