"We're not here to tell you anything bad. We'd just like to know where Trey is."

Juliet Harshberger's enormous pale green eyes stretched the limits of their sockets. She was five feet tall, probably less than a hundred pounds, with a pixie face dusted with buttermilk freckles under a mop of carefully layered mocha hair. Tiny pointy breasts fell short of filling her white cashmere sweater. Boyish hips were no more successful with razor-creased designer jeans.

Petite young woman easily able to pass as a high school student. I wondered if her bond with Franck extended to fraud.

She said, "You really don't know where he is? Well, neither do I and I'm worried sick. It's not like him to disappear."

Milo said, "What was he scared about?"

Her answer came too quickly. "I don't know."

We waited.

Juliet Harshberger said, "I don't know."

Milo said, "Where'd you do your undergrad work?"

That threw her but she murmured, "Brown."

So much for that rule.

"You went from there straight to Caltech?"

"I took a year off."

"Lab work?"

"I traveled. Why would you care?"

"I love to travel," Milo lied. "Where'd you go?"

"Europe, Southeast Asia." A beat. "Africa."

"World tour?"

Silence.

"Sounds nice."

"I needed to do it," she said. "Before the grind."

"Grad school's tough."

"Grad school at this place is…" Her eyes moistened again. "Everyone's a genius except me."

Milo said, "I'm betting you made summa at Brown."

Juliet Harshberger ground her teeth. "At Brown I was smart. At Caltech, I'm an inanimate object." Glance to the side. "Trey's a genius. He's been my lifeline."

"And now he's frightened. And missing."

She cried. He passed her another tissue. "What's going on, Juliet?"

"Just Julie."

"Tell me about Trey, Julie."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"What if he's in danger, Julie?"

"Please don't say that."

"I'm sure Trey told you about the murder."

Julie Harshberger reached for her cat. The animal rolled away, continued to feign sleep. "Omarine, you are so lazy."

"What did Trey tell you about the murder, Julie?"

"That you came to his place and interrogated him."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"Then," she said. "Right after you left, he came here. The next day I didn't hear from him but sometimes he works late in the lab. It was only last night when I went by and he wasn't there for our dinner date. I was taking him to the Parkside Grill, it's my favorite. He hasn't been back since, nor has he come into the lab and his cell's not responding."

"What's he scared about, Julie?"

"I-I can't."

"We know about the SAT scam."

Her mouth dropped open.

Milo said, "Yeah, that was wrong but think about it: Trey was frightened enough to leave. So covering up and slowing us down could be hazardous to his health. When did he tell you about it, Julie?"

"A few months ago," she said. "It bothered him. She convinced him to go along with it."

"Elise Freeman."

"He said she would do anything for a quick buck."

"She hired Trey because he could pass for a high school student."

"Also, he was an alumnus."

"Of Windsor Prep."

Nod.

"That was important because…"

"All the students he sat in for were from there."

"Elise Freeman limited herself to Windsor Prep students."

"She told Trey it kept things simple. And she had plenty of business just from there."

"Lots of pressure to excel."

She grimaced. "I went to a place like that in Houston until I could no longer tolerate it and insisted I be sent to public school."

"Tough environment."

"Brutal, uncaring, selfish. Elise and some guy she hung out with exploited that."

"Some guy."

"Trey said he was pure sleaze, shake his hand and count your fingers."

I said, "How many SATs did Trey take for Prep students?"

"How would I know? I don't want to talk about it."

"Trey was okay talking about it."

"No, not really," she said. "We were discussing how insubstantial the world has become and he brought it up as an example."

"Of…"

"Something stupid and pointless. The test is a joke, there are tricks, it's really something you can figure out if you just pay attention."

"If you're as smart as Trey."

"My parents forced tutors on me from ninth grade on and they were useless. I understood that I needed to study specifically for the test, got 790 on the AP bio, 740 on the AP chem, 1490 on the SAT I. Back then it was out of 1600."

"Impressive."

"You think?" Her smile was unsettling. "My brother refused tutoring and got 1520."

I said, "Trey was a 1600 man."

"Of course."

"How much did Elise Freeman pay him?"

"I don't kn-oh, why not, she gave him five thousand per administration. She took more while he did all the work."

"How much more?"

"She'd never say, so he figured it was a lot… I hope he's okay."

Grabbing the cat, she stroked the animal hard enough to raise a startled mew. "Omarine, you're so warm… do you promise to help him if you find him?"

Milo said, "Of course."

"Then I'll tell you. It's not her he's afraid of. He's running from some kids."

"Kids he took the test for?"

"He's convinced they killed her to cover their tracks."

"Why?"

"He just said they're scary kids."

"What are their names, Julie?"

"He didn't say! I wish he did so I could tell you! I begged him, let's go to the police, my father knows people, I can make sure they do their job! He said, 'The less you know the better, Julie.' And now he's gone!" The cat jumped off her lap, curled in a far corner, and pretended to sleep.

Milo said, "Did he give you any details at all, Julie?"

"Rich kids," she said, as if it were a disease. "No surprise there."

I said, "Is there someplace Trey likes to go when he needs to think?"

"Here. I hold him, we listen to music, we both unwind."

"Did he ever mention the name Martin Mendoza?"

"No. Who's that?"

"Someone Trey talked about to us the first time."

"That name never came up. No names came up, he was trying to protect me." A small hand settled on a concave belly. "I'm feeling sick, I'll never be able to concentrate on my research."

"What's your topic?"

"Don't know yet, I'm somewhat of a searcher."

CHAPTER 31

We made a second pass at Trey Franck's apartment, found the live-in manager's quarters on the top floor. The custodian of dinge was a forty-year-old physics student named Mario Scuzetti who didn't balk at unlocking Franck's flat.

"Sketchy tenant?" I said.

"We've had better," said Scuzetti. "As in paying rent in a timely fashion."

He stood outside the room as Milo scanned. Milo entered the bathroom, closed the door, emerged moments later. "Not here and nothing iffy, thanks."

Scuzetti said, "You find him, tell him to cough up last month's."

In the car, Milo removed a toilet-paper-wrapped wad from his pocket. "Left his toothbrush and toothpaste and hairbrush, which is kind of impulsive for a good planner."

"He probably wasn't thinking in terms of DNA analysis," I said. "You're not concerned about a warrantless search?"

"What search? I went in there concerned about the poor boy's safety because of what li'l Julie said plus everyone associated with the test scam dying unnaturally. Saw this material in plain sight and believed it might help us locate Mr. Franck, all in the interests of his personal safety."

He started the car. "Not to say DNA wouldn't be peachy but all I'm after now is a print I can match to the palm on Fidella's garage. Franck's smart and amoral. And you heard Moon: Franck had his evenings to himself, had plenty of time to fly in and out and do Elise. He knew we'd trace him through her phone records so he prepares himself, sics me on Marty Mendoza. That leaves him grace time to bash in Sal's head, after which he drives off in Sal's car, leaves it in plain sight with a hat that can be traced to Marty on the seat. And Julie just gave us the motive for all this mayhem: Franck's tired of doing all the work and being a junior partner in the scam. Ergo eliminate the middlemen. Everything fits, including his disappearance: He leaves personal things behind but skips out on the rent, because he's known for a while that he's gonna rabbit."