The anchor said that LAPD had announced a full investigation into Angela Rossi. The anchor said that Rossi had been suspended pending the outcome. I felt a dropaway feeling in my stomach and said, 'Oh, man.'

Pike said, 'I tried calling her, but the phone's off the hook.'

'How about I pick you up?'

He hung up without answering. Lucy had come inside, and Ben was still on the deck. I said, 'We've got to go see about Rossi.'

Lucy nodded. 'I thought you might. I've got the meeting later in Long Beach. I'll take Ben.'

'Sure.'

She started away, then turned back. 'I liked seeing you together with him.'

I smiled, but I didn't say anything. I wanted to ask what was going on with her former husband, but I didn't want to press her. I wanted to be supportive, but sometimes support can be oppressive. Maybe it would work itself out. Maybe, too, it was none of my business. I decided to give her some room. Giving them room is often the better part of valor, especially when you're trying not to make things worse.

I showered and dressed, and then I drove down to Culver City and found Joe waiting at the curb. Pike slid into the right front seat and closed the door without a word. He buckled the seat belt and still didn't say anything. I guess he was angry, too.

It was a few minutes after nine when we drove to the beach, then turned south to the Marina and slowed at the mouth of Angela Rossi's cul-de-sac. We would've turned onto her street, but we couldn't because of the news vans jamming the cul-de-sac and spilling out onto Admiralty Way. Knots of reporters and camera people were clustered on the sidewalks and in the street, and a couple of women who were probably Rossi's neighbors were arguing with a short, stocky guy in a sport coat. Apparently, his van was blocking their drive. Apparently, they wanted the reporters to lay off Rossi and get out of their neighborhood. Pike said, 'Look at this crap.'

We parked across Admiralty and walked back. A beefy reporter sitting in a Blazer did a double-take when we passed, then hurried after us, asking if he could have a word. He reached Pike first and Pike seemed to give a lurch, and then the reporter sat down on the street hard, going 'Ornph!'

Pike didn't lose a step. 'No comment.'

I guess some interviews are harder than others.

We walked past the reporters to the front gate. The thin man with the glasses and an older woman were telling an attractive red-haired reporter that they weren't going to let her in, when the thin man recognized me and shook his finger at me. 'It's you. You lied to me when you were here. You weren't looking for anyone named Keith!'

I said, 'Would you please tell Detective Rossi that Joe Pike and I would like to see her?'

The red-haired reporter turned and yelled for her camera operator to hurry up. She yelled that she wanted a shot of this.

The thin man kept shaking his finger. 'You're a prick. You should be ashamed of yourself.'

Joe Pike stepped to the gate and murmured something that I couldn't hear. Pike didn't seem threatening now. He seemed gentle and calming. The woman went to Rossi's front door. I guess she was the thin man's wife.

The red-haired reporter's camera operator hustled up behind us and began taping. The reporter asked if I had any additional information implicating or incriminating Angela Rossi. She asked if I was here to get a statement from Rossi or to follow up a line of inquiry. I kept my back to her. I stared at the hamper filled with Nerf balls. I stared at the red bike.

The thin man's wife came back and let us through the gate. The red-haired reporter tried to push through, but the wife shoved her back, yelling, 'Don't you dare!' The thin man wasn't happy that I was coming in.

Joe Pike rapped at the door once, then opened it, and we stepped through into Angela Rossi's life.

It was a nice place, roomy and spacious, though the furnishings weren't expensive, just a sofa and love seat arranged in an L, and a BarcaLounger. I guess she'd put all of the money into buying the place and hadn't had a lot left over for furniture. A woman and a man were standing behind the love seat, and another woman was sitting on the couch, and two little boys were sitting on the floor, the smaller sitting in the larger's lap. I guess the boys belonged to Rossi. I guess the adults were friends or family come to lend support. Off-duty cops, maybe, but maybe not. Everyone in the room was looking at me. Even the boys.

Angela Rossi was standing by the sofa with her arms crossed. Her cheeks looked hollow and her eyes were dark and haunted. I said, 'I wanted to tell you that I didn't have anything to do with this. I told Green that you were clean. He told me that he bought it. I don't know what happened.'

'Okay. 'Thanks.' Like she was numb.

Joe said, 'Angie.'

She shook her head. 'I didn't do those things. I didn't frame that guy.'

Joe said, 'I know.'

Angela Rossi looked confused. 'I don't know why she's lying. She seemed like such a nice woman.'

I said, 'We'll talk to her. We'll get this straightened out.'

Angela Rossi said, 'It won't matter. I'm done with the job.'

Joe stiffened and shook his head once. 'Don't say that, Angela. You're not.'

'So what kind of career will I have when it's over?' She walked past us to the window and peeked out. 'I can't believe that all these people have nothing better to do.' She looked back. 'Can you?'

All of them kept staring. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what to say. My eye still hurt where she'd hit me, and I was thinking that maybe she ought to hit me again. 'I'm sorry.'

'Forget it.' She shrugged, no big deal.

Joe said, 'We'll help you fight it.'

'Nothing to help. I've decided to resign.'

Joe leaned forward. His dark lenses seemed to blaze. 'Don't resign. You're too good to resign.'

She said, 'Oh, Joe.'

Pike was leaning so far forward he seemed to sway.

'They've taken everything away, but that's okay. I just have to survive this, and I know I can.' She smiled when she said it, as if she were at peace with all of this.

Joe said, 'What's wrong with you?' His voice was so soft I could barely hear him.

Angela Rossi's left eye began to flutter, then grew wet, and I had the sense that if she were fine china there would be a webwork of spider-silk cracks spreading beneath her surface. She held up her right hand and said, 'Please go now.'

Pike nodded, and I started to say something else, but then she turned the hand to me, and I nodded, too.

CHAPTER 21

We left Angela Rossi's and walked out to the car. The whiny reporter who had once been a lawyer saw us first and ran toward us, shouting, 'They've come out! They've come out!' The rest of the reporters stayed back, shifting their feet and keeping their distance. Pike raised a palm at the whiny reporter, and he stopped, too. I guess word had spread, or maybe it was in our faces.

We drove slowly, neither of us speaking, and worked our way out of the Marina, up through Venice, and along the beach. It was automatic driving, going through the motions ^without conscious thought or direction, movement without destination or design. Pike hunkered low in the passenger's seat, his face dark in the bright sun, his dark lenses somehow molten and angry. It is not good to see Joe Pike angry. Better to see a male lion charge at close quarters. Better to hear someone scream, 'Incoming!' I said, 'Where do you want to go?'

His head swiveled sideways maybe half an inch.

'How about we just drive?'

His head moved up, then down. Maybe half an inch.

'Okay. We'll drive.'

We followed Ocean Avenue up through Venice and along the bluff above the beach, Pike as still as an undisturbed lake. We stopped for a light on Ocean Park, and I watched the joggers and bikers and smiling young women with deep tans who dotted the bike paths along the bluff. Everyone was smiling. Happy people having a great time on a beautiful day. What could be better than that? Of course, they could be happy because they hadn't just come from Angela Rossi's house. It's always easy to smile when you haven't helped destroy an innocent person's life.