Just then the waitress appeared with two plates heaped with eggs, sausages, bacon, and toast. They ate in silence.

“Just answer one question,” Holliday said eventually. “If you already know where Alicia Lavelle is, why are you even here in Eagle Rock?”

Jessica put down her fork and sighed. “Because she doesn’t know who killed her mother or who took her from the house. That’s why.”

“She doesn’t know who abducted her?” Holliday shook his head in disbelief. “Who the hell has she been living with for the last twenty-five years?”

Jessica picked up the fork and shoveled some bacon into her mouth and chewed slowly. Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. “Why are you so interested in the case?”

“You already asked me that.”

“You didn’t give me a proper answer.”

“It’s an interesting case.”

“This is LA. There are hundreds—thousands—of interesting cases you could be writing about. Why this one?”

Holliday fiddled with the sugar dispenser. “I lived in Eagle Rock when it happened. I was just a kid at the time, fifteen or sixteen, but I remember the fear that gripped the town. Suddenly people were locking their front doors during the day. Kids weren’t allowed out on their own. Everybody was suspicious of everybody else.”

“You said you’ve been looking into the Lavelle case for a while. Who have you spoken to in Eagle Rock already?”

“Other than the cops? Just Hopper and Ace Freeman. I already told you I didn’t have any luck with the McCools.”

“That’s it? I thought you’d written all those anniversary articles?”

“The information was mostly from newspaper cuttings and phone interviews with sources in the LAPD. I’d only been here once before this visit.”

“Other than the time you lived here as a kid.”

“Right.”

“Your folks still here?”

“No, we moved to West Hollywood years ago.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Venice Beach. You’re based in New York, right?”

Jessica shook her head. “I was. Not now.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Around. I travel from place to place.”

“Sounds lonely. Any family?”

Jessica shook her head again. “Not anymore.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. What happened?”

“My dad had a heart attack two years ago. I found him. I don’t remember my mom. She died in an automobile accident when I was a baby.”

“Hey, that’s rough.” Holliday reached across the table for her hand, and as his skin touched hers, she felt an electric current charge through her veins, like she’d just stuck her fingers in a live socket. Jessica pulled her hand away.

“You okay, kiddo?” Holliday asked.

“Yeah.” She smiled weakly.

“Okay, time to change the subject. What’s the story with the tattoos?”