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Police Department's K-9 Officer, D. Gonzalez, responded with his search dog, Dino. They worked the area east of El Vista Bridge to
La Loma Avenue
, including the creek banks and brushy areas, up and down the trails, through the picnic and playground areas, and into the gully on the south side of Dry Creek. The team would also check the backyards of residents that bordered the park.
    When Officers Letsinger and Spurlock left the Covena home, they headed over to
Dry
Creek
Park
to join the search. Upon arriving, they saw Laci's stepfather at the footbridge.
    "Do you know where Scott's been all day?" Spurlock asked.
    "I believe he went golfing this morning," Grantski responded.
    "Are you sure?"
    "Yes."
    Officers Spurlock and Letsinger exchanged glances but said nothing. Excusing themselves, they proceeded with their search of the park, following the trail south to the pump station, then north past the footbridge and back again. By then it was quite dark, so they returned to the Peterson home.
    Officer Evers was standing on the front lawn of the ranch house with Scott Peterson. "Find anything?"
    "Not yet," Spurlock replied.
    As the three men stood chatting, Scott's stepfather walked over. "Were you able to get in a game of golf this morning?" Grantski asked Scott.
    Scott hesitated. Then, speaking a little too quickly, he said, "I didn't play golf today. It was too cold. I went fishing instead."
    Grantski looked puzzled. He glanced at Spurlock and Evers, then turned back to his son-and-law. "Nine-thirty or ten o'clock in the morning is way too late for fishing," he said. "You should have gone earlier. What were you fishing for?"
    There was no response.
     
    CHAPTER TWO
    DECEMBER 24, 2002, NIGHT
    CAP Homicide Detective Al Brocchini could hear the helicopters as he sped down Route 108 toward the Peterson home. He was following the details via the police scanner bolted to the dashboard of his unmarked car. Friends and neighbors were already assisting in the search, and officers were calling in with bits of information: some gloves at Wilson and Encina Avenues, a burnt white shirt in one of the park fire pits where
Jennie Street
intersects
North Morton Boulevard
.
    Brocchini had planned on a quiet Christmas with his family in the foothills of the
Sierra Nevada
Mountains
, but he agreed to return to Modesto for this investigation. Sergeant Carter was comfortable calling on this detective on Christmas Eve. With seventeen years on the job, a son on the Modesto police force, and no young children at home, Brocchini was the obvious choice; Carter was confident that Brocchini's wife of twenty-five years would be more understanding than most spouses on that day.
    Sergeant Carter wanted Brocchini to talk to Scott Peterson, to get a reading on whether Laci Peterson's disappearance seemed like a voluntary departure or something more sinister. There were other possibilities, such as an accident or kidnapping, but Brocchini was not working those angles.
    "If Laci is not found by patrol or by investigation, you are to call Detective Craig Grogan to assist," Carter ordered.
    Barely five foot six, with a youthful face and wide brown eyes that sparkled behind silver-rimmed glasses, the heavy-set Brocchini looked like a cop even in his business suit. Nine years with the MPD and eight before that with the Alameda County Sheriff's Department had left their mark; his rough-and-tumble demeanor contrasted sharply with his cherubic features.
    Christmas lights illuminated the house numbers along the broad two-lane road that dead-ended at
Thousand Oaks
Park
. Brocchini spotted police officers on the lawn of 523 Covena as he pulled up behind several patrol cars lining the curb. The frigid air hit him like a slap as he climbed out of the heated vehicle and onto the patchy grass, where Officer Evers, tall and lean in a navy-blue uniform, stood waiting. Brocchini joined Evers and the two walked over to the driveway, where Scott Peterson stood speaking with a