"Did he give you drugs?"

"No. That's one of the funny things about it. He absolutely would not let me take any drugs—not even pot or aspirin—only a little wine or tea once in a while. Maybe he was doctoring the tea? I don't know why the details are so fuzzy. Maybe I just want to forget it, so I do."

"Can you remember any details about Edward himself? Where he lived, what he did for a living? Physical description?"

"I never knew where he worked. He was gone all day and came home at night—if he came home—and that was when things would happen. I slept during the day a lot, too. I stayed in a condo down-town. One of those fancy buildings with a doorman near the Paramount Theater."

"You remember the address?"

She rattled it off. "But I think it's leased by a corporation. I can't remember why I think that… Maybe Edward told me." She shook her head. "It's hard to remember stuff about that time."

"It's all right. I can find out. What does Edward look like?"

"He looks like James Bond."

"Excuse me? He looks like Sean Connery?"

"Not Connery. The new one. Sort of, but not quite. I think his hair is thicker and his face is thinner and he's a lot scarier. But, you know, that dark-haired, movie-star look, only cruel."

I made a note. I couldn't believe I might be looking for a Pierce Brosnan lookalike. Crazy. "You don't know what he does for a living, but what was his lifestyle like? Did he seem to have money? Did he ever say anything about family or where he was from? Did he have an accent? Anything like that?"

"No. He just sounded rich and American. You know that super-lean, no-accent voice? He had that. Always sounded so cold and remote…" Sarah shuddered, then shook herself and resettled.

Her voice was clear and calm when she continued. "I don't think he had a family, though he had a lot of friends who were all as creepy as him. He did seem to have a lot of money and a lot of people who hung around him—I think they were kind of scared of him, or, like, his employees or something. Really subservient. Total pack behavior. Edward is definitely the top dog. I think he's from Seattle, though, because sometimes his friends would talk about stuff that happened around here when I was a little kid or before I was born, like they saw it. Like the World's Fair and stuff like that."

"Well, if he's a local boy and he has connections to a local corporation that leases that condo, I'll find him. What do you think Cameron did to get you away from Edward?"

"I'm not sure. I think it took a while. I think they met a bunch of times before he let me go."

"Edward, you mean?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. I think, at first, Cameron tried to frighten him, or pressure him somehow, blackmail, sort of. You know, 'Leave my sister alone or I'll sic the cops on you. Or maybe he said he'd have someone break Edward's legs—that's one of Cam's favorite mock threats, because he's so skinny and wimpy-looking. But I think they must have made some kind of deal. Maybe Cam paid him off. Cam lives pretty tight for a rich kid, so he has plenty of spare change, if you know what I mean."

"Why would a rich man take money from your brother?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a guess. Some people are greedy, no matter how much they've got. Or Cam could have offered him something else. He's a smart guy. He'd have found out what Edward wanted."

"Do you think Edward could have anything to do with Cameron's disappearance?"

Her face became bleak. "He could." She leaned toward me. "Do you think my brother's dead?"

"No, I don't. I think he's alive, but in hiding or unable to let any-one know where he is. Could Edward arrange something like that for Cameron?"

She frowned. "I think he could kill someone. And I know I wasn't the first plaything he had, so he could do that, too, but I can't imagine it happening to Cam. He's very strong-willed. And he's smart, like I said. Not very many people ever put one over on Cam. If he's not sick or locked up in some fashion, he'll find some way to save himself. But it's good someone's looking for him. You'll find a way to help him, won't you? You'll find him?"

"I'll do my best. I think I will find him. Soon."

Now she was fierce. "Good. You know what I said before, about how Cam gets everything? Well, it's not because I hate Cam. I don't think he even wants it. It's what Dad wanted and what Mom wants. That makes me a little pissed, still, and sometimes I really could hate Mom and Dad—if it was worth the energy—but I don't. None of that is worth my time. But Cam… Cam is worth my time because I was worth his. You find my brother. And when you do, let me know. I owe him a lot. And I love him a lot, too. If I can help, you just say so."

"I will." I handed her one of my cards. "If you think of anything, call me."

She looked at my card as if memorizing it before reaching down and placing it between the pages of her book: Divina Commedia by Dante. She reached into her lap and picked up Chaos, raising her to her face for one more nuzzle. Chaos yawned, nipped lightly at Sarah's nose and licked her. Sarah kissed her and offered her to me. I took the ferret and put her into my bag, where she stuck her head out of the top for a good view.

Sarah walked me toward the door. I stopped in the doorway, unable to resist.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," she answered, shrugging and reaching to stroke Chaos's head with a finger.

"What are you doing here? What is this place?"

"This?" she asked, looking around. "This is my place. It was my grandparents' house. I inherited it a couple of years ago when the trust matured. My family's really into trusts. Right now I guess it's some kind of therapy. I'm trying to fix it up a bit. It's a lot better than it was when I came here in March."

"What about the motorcycle parts?"

"Those belong to my sort-of boyfriend. He's in Italy right now, visiting his family, and I kind of like to have the mess around to remind me of him."

"Oh. So that's why Dante in Italian."

She blushed and looked away. "No. That's why the Italian boyfriend. Can I ask you a question?" "Sure."

She surprised me. "Do you think I would be good with ferrets?"

I smiled at her. "I do." I gave her the name of the shelter where I'd found Chaos and told her to call them. She smiled, looking twelve years old.

As I drove away, I waved. Sarah waved back. I found I kind of liked the girl, but I felt more drained than by any other interview I'd ever been in. Despite my tendency to feel instantly chummy with any other ferret person, leaving was a relief.

By the time I reached my office, it was raining in earnest: big drops that hit with a splat like a thrown water balloon. I bundled Chaos into the bag and tried to run between raindrops. We both got wet.

The answering machine was blinking. I pushed the button as I set down my bag. Chaos jumped out, tumbled onto the floor, and began exploring.

The voice on the single message was familiar. "Hi, Harper. This is Will Novak. I was thinking… well, it's started raining, so I was wondering if I could cash in my rain check for dinner. If you're interested, please call me." He rattled off a phone number.

An impatient suitor. Let's face it, I had a bad case of lust for him, but dating someone connected, even tangentially, to a case can be complicated. I thought about my options as I set down some food and water for the ferret. Chaos fell on the bowls as if starving.

"What do you think, fuzzy? Should I have dinner with Will, or play it safe?"

Chaos crunched down on a mouthful of ferret kibble while I stroked her shoulders.

"You're right. Food is always important. I'll call Will."

He couldn't come to the phone. Michael took a message and my home phone number and assured me he'd tell Will to call me. He chuckled a bit as he did so, which made me smile, for some reason.