Wilder sighed and shook his head. “Where’s your climbing partner now?”

“Majorca. He and his wife left on Sunday night.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Wilder said.

“Why?”

“Perhaps he will be safer there.”

“Safer?”

But Wilder only said, “Your uncle is already at the car. Ask him to come back to say good-bye. I find I’m quite worn out.”

On the way back to the homicide bureau, Ciara wrinkled her nose and said, “You’ll have to take that suit to the dry cleaner, Smoky.”

“And take a long shower, too. But I’m glad you talked him into meeting with us.”

“Thank John for that,” she said.

But John, uncharacteristically, was sitting quietly in the backseat, staring out the window, not involving himself in their conversation.

“Knee bothering you?” Alex asked him.

“What?”

Alex repeated the question.

“Oh, no. Not the knee.”

Alex’s cell phone rang. He answered and heard Lieutenant Hogan say, “I’ve got some interesting news for you. We just got a call from the FBI.”

“They’re claiming jurisdiction?”

“No, although they keep threatening it,” Hogan said. “But they were admitting something that I’m sure they hated to tell us.”

“What?”

“The press conference got national coverage, right?”

“That’s what I’ve heard. They tell me our phones have been ringing off the hooks.”

“They have been,” Hogan said sourly. “Mostly people telling us we should be hiring these killers to work for the department. And the FBI has been getting those, too. But they’ve also heard from a few people who saw our Catalina duo. Not together, but in the places where they lived-when they were still alive.”

“People who knew Valerie Perry and Harold Denihan?”

“Not both. But who knew one or the other. It seems Perry has been in California for the last month or so. Up north, in Placer County. Denihan has been in El Monte. So guess what that means?”

“No easy way to claim federal jurisdiction.”

“Right,” Hogan said. “To the best of our knowledge, the people who are killing these criminals haven’t broken any federal laws so far. These are L.A. County homicides and only L.A. County homicides, as far as we’re concerned. The FBI might have pending investigations involving the victims, but these homicide cases are ours. Apparently the director of the FBI has been calling Sheriff Dwyer all afternoon. The Feds hate how this looks for them.”

“I’m sure they do. But I’m not so sure it looks all that great for us.”

“That depends on you and your team, doesn’t it? Any luck with Wilder?”

“He needs some time. We’re on the way back now. He didn’t have much to tell us yet. I can fill you in tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“One other thing, Lieutenant. The Los Angeles Times knows more than it should-one of their reporters has been leaving messages for me asking me to verify that anticoagulants were used on the victims.”

“A leak? Already?”

“The Times will have worked harder to have sources in the department than most, but I’d hate to start seeing every detail of the investigation in the morning paper.”

Hogan wholeheartedly agreed and promised to look into the matter.

Alex no sooner disconnected than the phone rang again.

“Brandon,” he answered, fully expecting it to be Hogan again.

“Uncle Alex?”

He still wasn’t used to being called “uncle,” but oddly, he found himself pleased that the boy was making an effort to stay in touch. “Hello, Chase. What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“Driving back from northern San Diego County. Where are you?”

“At your house.”

“My house?”

“Is he okay?” John asked from the backseat, suddenly sitting forward. Alex realized he hadn’t been paying attention to anything he said until he heard Chase’s name.

“Yeah,” Chase said, “I got worried, because Uncle John wasn’t answering, and, you know-I thought maybe something had happened to him.”

“He’s right here. You want to talk to him?”

“Sure-but, I wanted to ask, do you think I could stay here tonight?” He added quickly, “I could sleep on the couch, or the floor-whatever.”

“I don’t think your parents would like that much.”

“They’re out of town. My mom flew to New York. That’s where my dad is now.”

“They still probably wouldn’t like it.”

“Okay. I understand.”

Plain and simple. No anger, no whipped pup, no guilt trip. Any of those, Alex later told himself, he could have resisted. “Listen, Chase-what if they call home, and you aren’t there?”

“I never answer their phone. But if they call my phone, to check up on me, you mean? Call forwarding. I’ll get the call on my cell phone.”

“You have a separate line-never mind, I should have guessed.”

“So that wouldn’t be a problem,” Chase said.

He could hear the hope. “I’ll tell you what. Talk to your uncle John and ask him what he thinks. Up to him.”

He handed the phone back.

“Chase?” John said. “We’d love to have you stay over… Sure, I’m sure. He’s just like that sometimes. You’ll get used to him… You warm enough?”

Ciara said, “I didn’t know you have a nephew, Alex.”

“My brother’s son.”

“Well, that would fit, since he’s your only sibling.”

He glanced at her and saw her blush, and knew she was belatedly remembering department gossip. “What about you? I know one of your sisters lives with you. Any nieces or nephews by other members of the family?”

“Yes,” she said. “Two nephews-my brother’s children. But I don’t see them very often. They live in Texas.” After a moment, she added, “My sister Laney can’t have children, and I’m past trying to hit the snooze alarm on my biological clock.”

“Ever thought of adopting?”

“Sure. But this job is a little tough on family life. Maybe if I screw this up and get busted back to uniform, I’ll find some big old deputy, marry him, and start taking in strays.”

“Hell, go back to uniform now,” John said, having ended his call in time to shamelessly eavesdrop. “Being in Detectives can’t be worth all that. It’s not making you happy.”

“John, we’ve talked all afternoon, so I’ll assume you aren’t saying that because I’m a woman, or because you think I can’t find true happiness without doing housework or finding a man.”

“No, nothing to do with that. And from all Alex tells me, you’re a fine detective, better than most. And he tells me you worked your ass off and put up with all kinds of attitude to get to where you are.”

She smiled. “Alex said all that?”

“John, damn it-” Alex said.

Ciara laughed. “Don’t get mad at him. As for the job, I don’t think I could leave it in the middle of all of this excitement-could you, John?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it will be the FBI’s inside a week, mark my words.”

“You think so?”

“Right now Sheriff Dwyer is trying to claim that there’s no proof that the victims were brought to his jurisdiction under duress. All the FBI has to do is figure out where they were before they came to L.A. County, show that there was a struggle, and the sheriff will have to cooperate.”

“Don’t get your hopes up on that count,” Alex said. He told them about his conversation with Hogan.

“Okay,” John said, “but that just delays the inevitable. The public won’t understand the lack of cooperation. They’ll think the FBI ought to look into murders of people on the FBI list, period. One opinion poll ought to do it. I hear the Times is conducting one, so you may be working with federal agents soon.”

“An opinion poll, huh? That or another body, I suppose,” Alex said.

“That seems more likely,” Ciara said. “After all, there are ten possible victims, and we’ve only found three-and unless the FBI stops adding people to its fugitives list, our vigilantes will have three new targets to go after as soon as replacements are named to those three spots on the list.”

Their pagers went off simultaneously.