Chickering said, “I think you’d best calm down, young lady.”

Melissa turned to him and shook her fist. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do. You should be out doing your job- getting your stupid rent-a-cops to find my mother instead of standing around with him, drinking our scotch.”

Chickering’s face tensed with rage, then settled into a sick smile.

“Melissa!” said Ramp.

“ “Melissa’!” She mimicked his outraged tone. “I don’t have time for this crap! My mother’s out there and we have to find her. So let’s stop looking for scapegoats and just figure out how to find her!”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing, young lady,” said Chickering.

“How? With neighborhood patrols? What’s the point? She’s not in San Labrador anymore. If she was, she would have been spotted long ago.”

A moment’s pause before Chickering answered. “We’re doing everything we can.”

It sounded hollow. He knew it. The look on both Ramp’s face and Melissa’s drove it home.

He buttoned his coat. Tight across the midriff. Turned to Ramp. “I’ll stay as long as you need me, but in your interests, I should be out on the streets.”

“Sure,” said Ramp dispiritedly.

“Chin up, Don. We’ll find her, don’t you worry.”

Ramp shrugged and walked away, disappearing into the innards of the mansion.

Chickering said, “Good to meet you, Doctor.” His index finger pointed like a revolver. To Melissa: “Young lady.”

He saw himself out. When the door closed, Melissa said, “Idiot. Everyone knows he’s an idiot- the kids all call him Prickering behind his back. There’s basically no crime in San Labrador, so no one challenges him. It’s not because of him, though- just that outsiders stick out like sore thumbs. And the police roust anyone who doesn’t look rich.”

Talking rapidly but fluently. Just a slight raise of pitch- a tinge of the panic I’d heard over the phone.

I said, “Your basic small-town setup.”

She said, “That’s what this place is. Hicksville. Nothing ever happens here.” She lowered her head and shook it. “Only now it has. It is my fault, Dr. Delaware. I should have told her about him!”

“Melissa, there’s no indication McCloskey has anything to do with this. Think of what you just said about the police rousting outsiders. The chance of anyone being able to stalk her without being spotted is nil.”

“Stalk.” She shivered, let out breath. “I hope you’re right. Then where is she? What happened to her?”

I chose my words carefully. “It’s possible, Melissa, that nothing happened to her. That she did this on her own.”

“You’re saying she ran away?”

“I’m saying she may have taken a drive and decided to prolong it.”

“No way!” She shook her head vehemently. “No way!”

“Melissa, when I talked to your mother I got the sense she was chafing at the bit- really yearning for some freedom.”

She kept shaking her head. Turned her back on me and faced the green staircase.

I said, “She talked to me about being ready to take giant steps. Of standing before an open door and having to walk through. She spoke of this house as stifling her. I got the distinct impression she wanted out and was even considering moving once you’d gone away.”

“No! She didn’t take anything with her- I checked her room. All the suitcases are there. I know everything in her closet and she didn’t take any of her clothes!”

“I’m not saying she planned a trip, Melissa. I’m talking about something spontaneous. Impulsive.”

“No.” Another sharp head shake. “She was careful. She wouldn’t do this to me.”

“You are her main concern. But maybe she got… intoxicated by her newfound freedom. She insisted on driving by herself today- wanted to feel in control. Maybe once she got out on the road, driving her favorite car, it felt so good she just kept going. That has nothing to do with her love for you. But sometimes when things start to change, they change fast.”

She bit her lip, fought back tears, and said in a very small voice, “You really think she’s okay?”

“I think you need to do everything possible to try to locate her. But I wouldn’t assume the worst.”

She took several breaths, punched her sides. Kneaded her hands. “Out on the road. And she just kept going. Wouldn’t that be something.” Wide-eyed. Fascinated by the possibility. Then fascination gave way to injury. “No, I just can’t see it- she wouldn’t do that to me.”

“She loves you dearly, Melissa, but she-”

“Yes, she does,” she said, crying. “Yes, she does love me. And I want her back!”

Footsteps sounded on the marble to our left. We turned toward it.

Ramp was standing there, blazer over one arm.

Melissa used her bare hands to dry her eyes hastily and ineffectually.

He said, “I’m sorry, Melissa. You were right- there’s no sense blaming anybody. Sorry if I offended you, too, Doctor.”

I said, “No offense taken.”

Melissa turned away from him.

He came over and shook my hand.

Melissa was tapping her foot, finger-combing her hair.

Ramp said, “Melissa, I know how you fee- The point is, we’re in this together. We’ve all got to hang together. To get her back.”

Melissa spoke without looking at him. “What do you want from me?”

He gave a concerned look. It seemed genuine. Paternal. She ignored it. He said, “I know Chickering’s a moron. I don’t have any more confidence in him than you do. So let’s put our heads together. See if we can come up with something, for God’s sake.”

He held out his hands. Frozen in supplication. Genuine pain on his face. Unless he was better than Olivier.

She said, “Whatever.” Sounding that bored had to be a strain.

He said, “Look, there’s no sense standing around out here. Let’s go in, stay near the phone. Can I get you something to drink, Doctor?”

“Coffee, if you’ve got it.”

“Sure bet.”

We followed him through the house, settled in the rear room with the French doors and painted beams. The gardens and rolling lawns and tennis court were bathed in emerald light. The pool was a lozenge of peacock blue. All but one of the doors to the car stable were closed.

Ramp picked up a phone on an end table, punched two digits, and said, “Pot of coffee in the rear study, please. Three cups.” Hanging up, he said, “Make yourself comfortable, Doctor.”

I settled in a sun-cracked club chair the color of a well-used saddle. Melissa perched on the arm of a cane-backed chair nearby. Scratched her lip. Tugged at her ponytail.

Ramp remained standing. Every hair in place, but his face showed the strain.

A moment later Madeleine came in with the coffee and set it down without comment. Ramp thanked her, dismissed her, and poured three cups. Black for me and himself, cream and sugar for Melissa. She accepted it but didn’t drink.

Ramp and I sipped.

No one spoke.

Ramp said, “Let me call Malibu again.” He picked up the phone and punched in a number. Held it to his ear for several moments before putting it back in its cradle. Treating the apparatus with special care, as if it held his fate.

I said, “What’s in Malibu?”

“Our… Gina’s beach house. Broad Beach. Not that she’d go there, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”

Melissa said, “That’s ridiculous. She hates the water.”

Ramp punched buttons again, waited several moments, and hung up.

We sipped some more.

Ate more silence.

Melissa put her cup down and said, “This is stupid.”

Before either Ramp or I could reply, the phone rang.

Melissa beat Ramp for it.

“Yes, but speak to me, first… Just do it, dammit- I’m the one who… What! Oh, no! What do you- that’s ridiculous. How can you be sure! That’s stupid… No, I’m perfectly capable of… No, you listen to me, you-”

She stood there, open-mouthed. Pulled the phone away from her face and stared at it.