As he stepped into his pajama bottoms, Will thought about the town hall meeting and the press conference. Amanda had summarized the investigation better than he could’ve, speaking clearly and simply, personable but terse. Captain Torres did a decent job of easing community fears, keeping his cool under a barrage of questions thoughtful and stupid.

Then there was him.

Speaking into the microphone with that little nervous stutter in his voice that told the world he was a shit-kicking dufus. The tie and buckle didn’t help either; he could almost taste the contempt.

Made him drawl even more, until he ended up sounding like Gomer Pyle on downers.

What a- he stopped. Self-reflection was for chumps.

The phone rang. Good. Maybe Laura, that new relationship biting the du…Torres’s voice shot over the line. “You know the warrant that you requested to search Davida’s apartment?”

“I haven’t put it in yet, Cap.”

“Don’t bother, you won’t need it. Minette Padgett called in a 911 emergency about twenty minutes ago. The whole damn place has been ransacked.”

“They got me as I walked through the door,” Amanda said. “What about you?”

“I was just about to go to bed.”

Amanda made a sour face. “I wasn’t anywhere near going to bed. This commute is a killer. I really should move.”

“You shouldn’t even be working,” Barnes retorted. “Man, if I had a thousandth of your money, I’d be sailing or playing golf or- ”

“Willie, if you quit the force, you’d be cranky twenty-four/seven.”

“I’m already cranky twenty-four/seven!” Barnes looked around at the living space in complete disarray. “What a total shit pile.”

“That’s the bad news,” Amanda said. “The good news is now we can look for evidence against Minette without raising any hackles. So stop sneering, pard, and let’s get to work.”

Barnes took out a camera and began snapping pictures. Had it been tidy, the living room would have felt generous with the wall of picture windows and a high ceiling. But it was hard to look beyond the mess. Craftsman-style seating had been overturned, madras throw pillows were strewn across the floor. Oak bookshelves had been emptied, a couple of cheap glass vases- the kind that come with flower deliveries- were shattered.

The only breakage in plain sight. The open floor plan allowed Barnes a view of the kitchen. Cupboard doors flung open but the crockery within was untouched. The contents of the kitchen drawers, on the other hand, had been emptied and dumped on the floor.

The detectives walked as best as they could, trying not to squash evidence under the soles of their paper-sheathed shoes. The condo had three bedrooms- a master and two smaller guest rooms identical in size. The first of the smaller bedrooms had been converted into a home office; the floor space of the second was taken up with gym equipment.

When you got past the disorder, the master bedroom was a great space- generous and airy with a striking view of the city below and the bay beyond. Davida’s sanctuary at the end of a hectic day?

The room’s current ambience was chaos, clothing tossed on the floor, drawers dumped, bed linens stripped from the mattress.

The first word that came to Barnes’s mind was “staged.” Despite countless movie scenes, most thieves didn’t randomly ransack because disorder made it difficult to find valuables.

He nodded at Amanda and she got it without his having to say a word. The two of them moved to the home office and surveyed a snowstorm of paper through the doorway. Same drawer-emptying, file-dumping mess, books and videos on the floor, the swivel desk chair overturned in a way that suggested calculation. Barnes’s large feet couldn’t manage a baby step without crunching something under his feet and he retreated.

“Someone really did a number,” Amanda said.

Barnes said, “All this disorder and the plates and dishes are intact? A lot easier to clean up paper and upright couches and chairs, much bigger hassle clearing broken china.”

“Why would Minette stage this?”

“Could be her or someone setting her up.” Thoughts were rolling around Barnes’s brain. “Or maybe even the real deal. When I mentioned Harry Modell to Dr. Kurtag, she told me that Davida wasn’t afraid of him because she knew some things about him.”

“What things?”

“She didn’t tell Kurtag. Someone crazy, who knows what they’ll do.”

Amanda considered that. “Maybe, but it’s a reach so unless we know Modell’s here in town, he’s low on the list.”

“Minette’s at the top?”

“You bet. Wonder where she is.”

“Torres took her complaint and let her go.”

“Torres is taking citizen complaints now?”

“Significant other of a high-profile vic,” said Barnes. “She’s staying with some friends for a couple of days. Which I like. We can sift through the stuff without her poking around in our business.”

Amanda surveyed the toss. “How long do you think it will take us to go through all this material?”

“Most of the night,” Barnes said. “When’s our flight to LA?”

“Seven AM.”

“I wonder if we can move it to eleven without getting someone’s nose out of joint.”

She smiled. “Sneaking in the shut-eye?”

“Both of us. You can bunk down at my place if you want. Save you a trip over the bridge.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

12

Barnes’s cell chirped just as the garbled PA voice issued a boarding announcement. He fished the phone from his pocket. “Did she just call our flight?”

Amanda looked up from her paperback. “Uh-uh, Phoenix.”

“How do you understand anything she said? It just sounds like static.” He pressed the green button. “Barnes.”

“Sorry to bother you, Detective. It’s Alice Kurtag.”

Barnes wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear, and found his notepad. “No bother at all, Dr. Kurtag, what can I do for you?”

“I don’t know if this is important or not, but you asked me to call you if I thought of anything.”

“What’s up?”

“As I told you before, my relationship with Davida was almost exclusively business. I barely knew Minette and I didn’t know most of their friends.”

“Okay,” Barnes answered.

“I doubt if this is important, but I recall that about a month ago, Davida dropped by the lab with a friend- an old friend. Someone she had gone to high school and college with. They looked…” There was silence for a moment. “I don’t know how to put this. They looked comfortable with each other.”

The implication was obvious. Barnes said, “More than chummy?”

“Well, they were laughing and touching each other. Of course they were old friends.”

“Do you remember this person’s name?”

“Jane. I honestly can’t recall if Davida mentioned her last name. If she did, it’s eluding me.”

Jane. That threw Barnes. Nothing about Jane ever seemed remotely gay. Just to make sure, he said, “What did this Jane look like?”

“Tall, slim, pretty, Davida’s age- long jet-black hair, very striking hair. And maybe a bit…shopworn? I don’t want to be unkind but it was as if she’d been through a lot.”

No doubt who she meant. Jane sure hadn’t had good luck with men. “Could it have been Jane Meyerhoff?”

“Yes, it was- now I remember, she did use her last name! You know her?”

“She’s indeed an old friend of Davida’s. All right, Dr. Kurtag, thanks for the information.” Tacking on the basic detective’s parting shot: “Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Actually, yes.”

But she added nothing.

Barnes said, “Go on. I’m listening, Doctor.”

“Davida told me that she and Jane were going to be away for a couple of days to do some white-water rafting. Davida told me that she had had an intense week and Jane had been going through a very messy divorce. Both of them needed to unwind and both of them loved physical challenges. She told me her cell wouldn’t be operative, but she gave me a contact number if something important came up in my research. She said the number was only for me and that I shouldn’t give it out to anyone else.”