'Great.'

'She has to be somewhere.'

I picked up the phone again, called my friend at Pacific Bell, gave her Louise Earle's phone number, and asked for every call that Louise Earle had made in the past five days. Her records would show only toll calls, so if she'd phoned someone the next street over I'd never know it. But, like paying cash for airline tickets, it wasn't worth worrying about.

My friend read off twelve numbers that I dutifully copied, nine of which were in local area codes (310, 213, or 818), and three of which were long distance. The long distance calls were all to the same number, the first two of which were collect calls that she'd accepted the charges on. The third time she'd dialed the number direct. I thanked her for the help, then hung up and started dialing. Minimum-wage detective work.

I called each number and got two answers out of the first five calls, one from a pharmacy and one from an elderly woman. I hung up on the pharmacy and asked the elderly woman if she knew where I could find Mrs Earle.

She didn't. The sixth number was long distance. The phone rang twice, and a male voice said, 'Federal Correctional Facility, Terminal Island.'

I didn't speak.

The voice said, 'Hello?'

I told him I was sorry, then hung up and looked at Pike. 'LeCedrick.'

Pike said, 'She probably didn't go to stay with him.' Everyone's a comedian.

'She didn't call LeCedrick. LeCedrick called her. LeCedrick calls, and she changes her story. She wouldn't do it six years ago, but she does it now. What do you think he told her?'

Pike shrugged.

I tapped the phone, thinking about it, and then I called Angela Rossi at her home. Her machine answered, but again she picked up when she heard that it was me. I said, 'At six this morning, Kerris and two other guys broke into Louise Earle's house, looking for her. They searched the place, and I don't know if they got a line on her or not.'

'Why are you telling me this?'

'Because LeCedrick Earle might know where she's gone. When I spoke with Louise she told me that she hadn't spoken to LeCedrick since he was sent up. She said he wouldn't speak to her. But four days ago he called her twice. Three days ago she changed her story. She called him the day before yesterday. That's the day she disappeared. He might know where she's gone. Do you see?'

Angela Rossi didn't say anything.

'I saw him before, but the last time he agreed to see me. I'm pretty sure he won't this time, and I need a badge to get in without his permission. Maybe you could talk to Tomsic. Maybe he could get me in.'

Angela Rossi said, 'Pick me up.'

'You're suspended, Rossi. You don't have a badge.'

'I'll get one, goddammit. Pick me up and we'll go see him. I'll get it set up before you get here.' She hung up before I could say anything else.

CHAPTER 32

Angela Rossi was waiting at the mouth of her cul-de-sac, looking professional in a dark blue business suit that'd she'd probably worn to work every other week for the past three years. She swayed back and forth the way cops do when they're anxious. It's an unconscious habit they pick up in their uniform days when they have to stand in a place for long hours with nothing to occupy themselves except their baton. It's called the nightstick rock.

We stopped at the curb, and she climbed into the back seat. She said, 'It's set up. The guards think we're coming to interview him about a past association. That's what he thinks, too.'

Pike said, 'Did you get a badge?'

'Don't worry about it.' Protecting someone, saying if you don't know you can't tell.

Pike pulled back in traffic without waiting for her to buckle in. I said, 'You could give us the badge, then you wouldn't have to come in. Less chance of anyone finding out that you're violating your suspension.'

She neither answered nor looked at me. Her mouth was set and her eyes empty. Cop eyes. Just another day on the job walking the razor's edge.

We picked up the San Diego Freeway and headed south, and once more I was passing Inglewood and Hawthorne and Gardena and Torrance. Angela Rossi sat behind me in silence, hands in her lap, gazing out the window without seeing, dressed in her cop clothes, carrying a cop's badge, going on a cop's mission. She had given her all to it for a great long while, and I wondered if she was thinking that it might now be at an end. I wondered if she was thinking that the dream of being the first female chief of detectives had been a silly one. I wondered if she had regrets.

Forty minutes later we crossed the land bridge onto Terminal Island and passed through the gate, and then we were at the administration building. We parked, took off our guns, and then Angela Rossi and I went in. I said, 'You okay?'

Rossi said, 'Keep your mouth shut and try to look like an officer. I'll do the talking.'

Yes, ma'am.

We went through the front door and up to the reception desk. I was worried that the reception guard would be the same guy, but he wasn't. This guy was paging through Saltwater Fisherman magazine, but looked up when we approached. He said, 'May I help you?' He was a young guy, tall and athletic and looking as if he'd just mustered out of the military. He was wearing the blue blazer and tie.

Rossi showed the badge. ' West L.A. robbery,'homicide. I called to see an inmate named LeCedrick Earle.'

The receptionist jotted down the badge number, then said, 'Sure. Hold on.' He flipped through the loose-leaf book until he found Earle's name, then told someone on the phone that he wanted prisoner number E2847 in the interview room. When he hung up he said, 'Guns?'

Rossi said, 'Left'm in the car.'

'Great. Someone will be right out for you. Wait by the sally port.'

Rossi said, 'Would it be a problem to check your logs for the visitors that Mr Earle has had over the past two weeks?'

'No sweat.' He turned to a computer and typed something. 'We enter the log into the computer at the end of each day for the record. You want a hard copy?'

'Yes.'

It took maybe sixteen seconds, and then a laser printer spit out a single sheet. Modern crime fighting at its finest. He said, 'Here you go.'

Rossi took it and we looked at it as we went to the sally port. The only visitors that LeCedrick Earle had had in the past two weeks were Elliot Truly and Stan Kerris. How about that?

A second guy in a blue blazer opened the sally port for us and said, 'This way, please.'

We followed him through and turned right. He was a couple of years younger than Rossi and he looked her over. 'You guys down from L.A.?'

Rossi said, 'That's right.'

'What kind of case?' Rossi was trying to ignore him, but the guard was giving her the grin.

'Don't know yet.'

The guard grinned wider. 'How long are you going to be down here? Maybe we could get together for a drink.'

Rossi never looked at him. 'Do yourself a favor, sport. I just tested positive for chlamydia.'

The guard's grin faltered and he moved a half-step away. Talk about a conversation stopper.

He brought us to the same interview room that I had used before and opened the door. He stood kind of bent to the side so that Rossi wouldn't brush against him when she went by. 'I've got to lock you in. Your guy will be here in a minute.'

Rossi said, 'Thanks.'

He locked the door behind us and we were alone. I nodded at her. 'Chlamydia. Nice.'

Rossi shrugged. I guess it was something she'd had to do ten thousand times.

We had been there less than thirty seconds when the rear door opened and a third guard led in LeCedrick Earle. His eyes widened when he recognized us, and he shook his head at the guard. 'Forget this shit. I don't wanna see'm.'

The guard shoved LeCedrick toward the table without acknowledging him and said, 'Just punch the buzzer when you're finished.'