She finished the coffee and said, “It’s gross out.”

“I’d say.”

“Not supposed to rain like this here. Isn’t that why we tolerate the traffic and earthquakes?” “You’d think.”

She grunted, walked back into the kitchen, and returned with a newly filled cup. She sat down again and looked at me. “Morning.” “Good morning.”

“Think I forgot to say that the first time I came out.” “Well, it’s gross out, and you were focused on that.” She sipped from the mug, nodding. “Plans for today?” I asked.

“Meeting at ten,” she said, grimacing at either the idea of the meeting or having to leave the house in crappy weather. “Then I’ll wait for the bad guys to call me.” She looked at me. “You?”

“I’ll go home and see if Carter and Miranda dug anything up while I was gone. Then I’m not sure.”

“I’ll talk to Klimes again,” she said. “See if he knows anything more.”

“Tell Zanella I said hello, too. I miss him.” “Grow up. What did he say to you anyway?” “You don’t wanna know.” “Actually, I do. That’s why I asked.” “Forget it,” I said, sorry I’d brought it up.

“Let me guess,” she said, holding a finger to her chin like she was thinking hard. “Something about you and me? Maybe something sexual? Something insulting? I’m sure I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

Liz took a lot of crap for being a woman in a job that was traditionally reserved for old-school men. She liked to act like it didn’t bother her, but I knew the barbs sometimes got through.

“You got the gist of it,” I said.

She shook her head, staring into her coffee. “Zanella’s not the brightest guy. Figured he was working with a limited repertoire of derogatory remarks. Next time, let it go.”

“Next time, I’ll break his jaw.”

“No, you won’t,” she said, moving her eyes from the coffee to me. “I don’t need you defending me. I appreciate it, but I don’t need it. Especially not with a guy like that. I can handle him fine on my own.”

I nodded, but I knew if he popped off again, I’d hit him again. Testosterone isn’t rational.

“I need to get in the shower and get moving,” she said, sighing, glancing at the window.

“Me, too.”

I found my shoes and sweatshirt, wishing we could just spend the day like we’d spent the night. But I didn’t know if that was because I wanted to stay or because I wanted to avoid the problems I needed to go solve.

Liz met me at the front door. “Call me later and let me know what’s going on.”

“I will.”

“And be careful,” she said, her eyes warning me not to do anything stupid. “If you need help, ask for it.”

I put my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. “I will.” “You won’t, but I thought I should say it anyway,” she said. I leaned down and kissed her.

“I will,” I whispered. “I promise. I won’t let you down.” She held my face in her hands. “Don’t worry about letting me down. Just do what you need to do.”

FORTY-FOUR

When it rains in Southern California, we drive as though we’ve never seen rain before. We go about ten miles an hour, jam on the brakes at every opportunity, and try to rearend as many other cars as possible.

That’s why the normally twenty-minute drive back to Mission Beach took me over an hour on the wet freeway.

I walked up the boardwalk to my house. Storms had a way of wreaking havoc on most everything else, but they stirred up the ocean in a good way. The swells rose up with a little more intensity than on sunny days, their usually unspectacular waves coming in higher and heavier, crashing with an attitude.

I was thinking about pulling my full wetsuit from the closet when I walked into my place and found Miranda straddling Carter on the living room floor, his arms pinned above his head and his eyes full of fear.

“I told you you’d go down like a rag doll,” she said to him. Carter’s eyes shifted to me. “Help.”

Miranda turned around. “He bet me I couldn’t throw him to the floor.”

“Good bet,” I said.

Miranda slid off him, and he jumped to his feet like nothing had happened.

“Lucky,” he said.

Miranda grunted and pushed some of the black hair away from her face. “How’d it go?”

“Awesome,” I replied, making a face. “You two learn anything?”

“I learned Magilla Gorilla isn’t that tough,” she said, glancing at Carter.

Carter looked like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him by a bully. “Whatever.” He looked at me. “It was Keene who was down here.”

“Positive?” I asked, unsurprised.

“Pretty positive,” he said. “We talked to about thirty people. Houses on the walk and a couple in the alleys. We got several descriptions that match the guy.”

“The night before Darcy was found?”

Miranda nodded. “Yeah, and one guy who swears he saw him two days before.”

I looked at Carter. “Who?”

“Dude up on Cohassett. Said he saw him at Roberto’s and on the beach.”

“Believable?”

“Complete stoner, but he seemed somewhat lucid when we talked to him.”

Two days prior. Which meant Keene had been keeping tabs on me. Again, not a surprise, but not something I was thrilled to hear either.

Miranda looked at Carter. “You owe me a meal.” Carter grimaced. “I know.” “I want it. Now.”

“So order a pizza. It’s almost lunchtime. I’ll pay.” She shook her head. “Not a chance.” She turned to me. “Where’s an expensive place down here?”

“Lamont Street Grill is good,” I said. Carter gave me the finger.

Miranda turned back to him. “That’s where we’re going.” “Have fun,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “You’re not coming?” Carter asked, both curious and hopeful. “Don’t want to ruin your date,” I said. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Why not?” Miranda asked.

There were a lot of reasons, but I didn’t feel the need to get into them at that moment. I needed to clear my head.

“I’m tired,” I said. “Go. I’ll fill you guys in later.”

“On what?” Carter asked.

I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure.

FORTY-FIVE

Call it maturity. Call it good decision making. Call it whatever you want, but I’d come to the decision that no matter how badly I wanted Keene myself, I wouldn’t be able to do much with him. The smart course of action was to talk to Klimes and tell him what I’d learned.

It took a sandwich and two beers before arriving at that conclusion. Keene wasn’t going to be phased by any more threats I made. There wasn’t any guarantee that Klimes would help me out, but I thought he’d at least be honest with me about whether he could do anything.

Dispatch patched me through to his cell. “Klimes.” “Klimes, it’s Noah Braddock. Am I catching you at a bad time?” I heard paper crumple through the line. “Nope. Just finishing a shitty lunch. What’s up?”

“Remember that name I asked you to check? Keene?”

“Sure.”

“He’s your guy.” “On the dead girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

I started with what Simington told me at the prison, including Keene and the smuggling, and ended with Carter and Miranda’s door-to-door.

“We didn’t get anybody to give those IDs when we asked,” Klimes said, annoyed.

“What can I tell you? Tight-knit group down here. They know Carter. They don’t know you. And Zanella’s an asshole.”

He chuckled. “I suppose. Gonna need to talk to those folks your friends talked to, though.”

“Okay. I’ll make it work.”

“And I had Keene on my short list.”

“How’s that?”

“Son, you asked me to run a name and then gave me a bullshit story about it. I may be fat and ugly, but I’m not dumb. I did my own, more extensive check. I tied some loose ends together with him and Simington.”

“You talk to him?”

“Not yet. Elusive little fella.”

“You have an address?”

“A bad one. And if I had a good one, I wouldn’t give it to you. You’re a bit too close to all this, Noah.”

He was right. Having Keene’s address would probably be too much temptation for me.