Tuesday morning I rolled out of bed at 6:00, brushed my teeth, and pulled on my sweats and running shoes. A baseball cap eliminated the need to deal with my hair, which was flat on one side and standing straight out on the other. When I left the house, the only hint that the cat was still in the vicinity was a pair of mouse feet and a long gray tail on my welcome mat. I tied my key into the laces of one shoe and set out at a slow clip, hoping to warm up before I began to jog in earnest.

Henry’s dinner invitation from the night before had been superseded by our efforts to persuade the cat to come out of the bushes. Since William was incapacitated, it fell to Henry and me to crawl around on the newly aerated lawn, coaxing the cat with kitty treats and threats, all to no avail. Once it got dark, we’d been forced to abandon the attempt and hope that the cat would at least remain where it was until morning.

The day promised to be warm. In typical California fashion, the damp and chill of the week before had been replaced by temperatures slated to reach the low eighties. A lingering marine layer hovered like thick white batting, but that would burn off by midday. As though in proof of this, a column of bright yellow sunshine illuminated the ocean just offshore, looking as though a monster hole had been punched in the clouds.

I completed the three-mile loop and slowed to a walk. I hadn’t seen my homeless pals and I wondered how many times the notion of their whereabouts would cross my mind. It was like having a tune lodged in my head, endless replays of a melody I couldn’t seem to block. The week before I’d known nothing of the dead man and nothing of his friends. Now I was troubled by their absence. In deciding to dismiss the matter, I’d succeeded only in tempering its effect. Terrence still hovered on the periphery while I waited for someone to step forward with a few concrete facts. I suppose I’d assumed that once I knew what his story was, I could forget about him entirely and his cronies along with him.

Home again, I showered, dressed, ate my cereal, and read the paper. When I left the studio, there was still no sign of Henry, William, or the cat. Either Henry had lured it inside or it had remained stubbornly out of reach. I left the mouse parts where they were in case the cat was looking forward to a snack later in the day. I hadn’t even known we had mice on the property and now the population was down by one.