There was a moment of silence, then, “ Uh- oh."

"Where are you at?"

"In St. Paul. I can be home in fifteen minutes. If we have to talk about him, I’d rather do it at home, than here.” Somebody was sitting across her desk, Lucas thought. “Half hour,” he said. On the way down, he called the number he had for McGuire and Robinson, the couple who were setting up the website. Robinson answered, and he identified himself and said, “Did you ever meet a friend of Frances named Frank Willett?”

“Uh… maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yeah. We went out to a place in Stillwater, last summer, a restaurant down on the water."

"The Dock,” Lucas said. “Yes, that’s it,” Robinson said. “Anyway, she was there with a guy, and she might have said his name was Frank. I don’t know what their relationship was-they seemed kind of standoffy, but you know, funny like. Like maybe they were unhappy about us seeing them together.”

“Denise, you didn’t mention this when we talked."

"I didn’t even remember it until you asked me about Frank,” she said. “And I’m not sure the guy was named Frank-we didn’t eat with them; they were at a table for two, we just said hi, and we moved along.”

“You remember what the guy looked like?” Lucas asked. “Pretty good- looking. Like a ballet dancer, or something. Thin, big hands."

"Hair color?” Lucas asked. “Black; with a ponytail. Two- day stubble. And he had a diamond earring."

"Of course he did,” Lucas said. “Yes; of course he did,” she said. “What’s this all about?"

"We’re taking a look at him,” Lucas said. “Now, I’m very serious about this. And you tell McGuire, too. If you see this guy again, you get away from him. Especially if you see him on the street, and he comes over to you.”

“You think?"

"We can’t take the chance,” Lucas said. “So if you see him…” He could hear the shiver in her voice: “Get away.”

AUSTIN WAS wearing a black velour sweat suit and pink dance shoes. She held the door open, closed it behind him, and said, “So somewhere along the line, you ran into Frank. I’ve been thinking about it, who you could have talked to, and I’m worried that one of my employees tipped you off.”

“Why should that worry you?” Lucas asked. “Because I wouldn’t take that kind of disloyalty,” she snapped. “If you heard it from one of my people, I’m going to have to root her out.” Lucas was shaking his head. “Relax. It’s not one of your employees.”She nodded: “Then it was Martina, that bitch. I thought Hunter might have figured something out. We were at an event at the Walker, and who should come wandering by, but Frank. I told him to get away from me, but I saw Hunter notice, you know, looking at me and then at Frank, and I was afraid he’d figured it out. And he told her.”

“You should have told me,” Lucas said. “For Christ’s sakes, your daughter was murdered.”

“The relationship was over for six months before Frances was killed,” she said, and she started to tear up. “There was no connection. Frank is not a bad guy.”

“California wants him on a dope warrant,” Lucas said. “What?"

"Not that big a deal, really-but he does have a warrant out,” Lucas said. “If he gets stopped on a traffic ticket, and they run him, that could pop up.”

“Oh, shit,” she said. They had trailed into the living room, and she plopped on a couch. And she shouted, “Helen!”

The housekeeper scurried out of the kitchen. “Squeeze a couple of oranges for me, will you? Maybe an orange smoothie. Lucas? You want a smoothie?"

"That sounds fine,” Lucas said. When the housekeeper was gone, he said, “I gotta tell you about something, and the way you’re talking, I’m not sure you knew about it.”

“About what?"

"About Frank and Frances."

"What about Frank and Frances?” Her hand went to her throat, and she half- laughed, but with shock in her eyes, denying it, and said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We think there was something going on there. The Dakota County cops came up with her purse-a guy found it and turned it in. There was a letter…” He took the folded print out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She looked at it for a long time, more than a minute, then shook her head and said, “Well. Not much here.”

“But it looks to me-"

"Me, too. It’s her handwriting, no doubt about it,” Austin said. “Do you have any idea when the relationship might have started?"

"It would have to be after he and I broke it off."

"Why? Why afterwards.” She looked at him, blankly, for a moment, then half-smiled: “Because he would not have had the energy to be sleeping with her, too. I, uh, needed a lot of attention.”

“Okay. So when did you break off?"

"April, the middle of April, right around tax time,” Austin said. “I had a lot to do, he started getting a little testy when I put him off… and finally I told him that we should end it. And I did. We did. Agreed to.”

“Sounds like you did,” Lucas said. “Maybe,” she conceded. “And he would have gotten to know Frances through you?” Lucas asked. “Well, through the spa in Minneapolis, Riverwood. It’s right over in St. Anthony Main."

"By the A1,” Lucas suggested. “Oh, God! I never thought of that. I mean, it’s several blocks, but it’s an easy walk.” She turned her face away from him for a moment, thinking, and then back: “But so what? I mean, what would that mean?”

“I don’t know. But tell me about how they probably met,” Lucas said.

“Well. She was going to the university, off and on, had an apartment over there, and the Riverwood location was the closest one, so she took a locker and would work out over there,” Austin said. “Frank works at several of the sites, usually one morning or one afternoon a week, doing tai chi, yoga, Pilates, meditation, whatever the members want.”

“Did she know that you were seeing Frank?"

"Not as far as I know. But I’m sure a couple of members could have figured it out and let her know. I wouldn’t be surprised if something like that precipitated this letter.”

“She apparently hadn’t sent it,” Lucas said. “It was still in her purse. So they were going on at the time.”

“You think that he might have come here?"

"What if she thought you were still sleeping with him? When she was? He denies it, she comes here to confront you, they argue… I mean, his job is at stake,” Lucas said. “Another thing-that fifty thousand dollars? You may not have noticed it, but your employee is driving a Land Rover. Do you pay him that well?”

Now she blushed, the pale pink tint creeping up her neck to her cheeks. “Actually… Look, I wasn’t paying him to sleep with me. But I have lots of money, and he was driving around in this old Jeep Cherokee with holes in the floor. I was afraid he was going to gas himself.”

“You bought him the Land Rover?"

"I helped him with it, yes,” she said.

“Shit. I thought it could be the fifty thousand. That would have tied things up just perfectly,” Lucas said.

She looked out at the lake, her eyes narrowing, her lips tightening, and she said, “I cannot believe that asshole.”

“And he was gone, your affair was done, before Hunter was killed?”

Her face jerked back toward him. “You don’t think…?"

"There’s nothing to suggest it. But there are a lot of dead people.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell you something: Frank knows nothing about mechanical things. I don’t see him sabotaging an airplane in such a complicated way that Hunter could fly it all over the place, and then up to Canada, and then have it fail at that one moment when it couldn’t, without crashing.”

“If it failed anytime up in the air…” Lucas began. “No. If it had failed at five thousand feet, he could have landed it anywhere with water. They even used to practice it-coming in without using the engine.”

Lucas shuddered: he did not like airplanes. “You mean, just turn it off?”