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a parking area filled with police cars.
    And a large flatbed truck I hadn’t noticed at first. On its flat bed crouched a highly damaged vehicle. A black one. One that had once been a gleaming, gorgeous Cadillac Escalade.
    Like Jeff’s.
    Trying not to flinch or shriek, I approached it calmly. From the back, I could see the license plate. With Jeff’s combo of letters and numbers.
    Okay, then, it probably was his. The body was scraped and dented—a real shame, considering how well Jeff cared for his pride and joy.
    And, yes, the driver’s side window was smashed out.
    “It’s his,” Buzz confirmed grimly, as if I needed his acknowledgment.
    “I think the crime scene technicians are about done,” Ned said. “The guys here said they’d keep me informed as a professional courtesy. And I’ve said I’ll provide whatever additional expertise they might need if this turns into a homicide investigation.”
    I felt myself blanch even as I aimed a belligerent glare at Ned. “You’re exaggerating the importance of this,” I insisted. “I’d imagine Jeff parked his car at Ontario—that’s the local airport he prefers flying from—and someone stole it, took a joy ride, panicked, and dumped it up here where it wasn’t likely to be found fast.”
    “I’ll say,” Buzz interjected morosely.
    “Any indication of where Jeff might have gone?” I asked Ned. “I mean, you mentioned possible blood evidence, but even if it was Jeff’s, that’s not enough to be sure of anything except that he was hurt. Any skid marks on the road? Any search and rescue K-9s hunting for him?” I wouldn’t inquire about cadaver dogs. “Anything in the water that suggests he washed away—alive or not?” I nearly choked on the last, but it had to be said. And considered.
    And hated.
    “Far as I’ve been told, there’s nothing clear one way or another. The K-9s haven’t found anything. But like the crime scene folks here promised me, I’ll keep you informed about anything that tells us something. Or at least anything that’s permissible to release to the public.”
    “I’m not the normal public, Ned,” I countered.
    “No.” He looked down at me with dark brows raised in almost-amusement. “You’re a meddling civilian, and you’ve got more of an axe to grind in this investigation than in most of those where you interfere. Look, Kendra, I know you’re close to Jeff, and even though you’re not his family, I’ll treat you as if you are, and request that the authorities who really have jurisdiction treat you the same. It’s the best I can do.”
    “Thanks, Ned,” I said. And I would of course inform Althea and Buzz, Jeff’s employees.
    It was far from being good enough, but it was something.
    And, besides, I had no intention of relying on Ned or any of the authorities to find Jeff. If they did, so much the better—or so I hoped.
    But in the meantime, I had snooping to do.

Chapter Three
    ON THE DRIVE back to L.A. with Buzz, I actually got him talking about his technical background installing security systems. His growing up in Long Beach. His enjoyment of investigations he’d been involved in. And his pessimism over the fate of his really cool boss.
    That part I didn’t really want to hear.
    I ignored several calls from Corina Carey. I wanted to talk to the nosy reporter as much as I wanted to be back watching Jeff’s car extracted from the aqueduct.
    Since it was still a workday, I eventually headed back to my law office, intending to do just that: work. Better to concentrate on arcane legal issues than to let my mind wander about that fractured Escalade and its missing driver.
    Of course I nearly regretted my decision to go there the moment I stepped into the building and Mignon’s usual smile became even perkier—an obvious attempt not to show the sympathy she undoubtedly felt on my behalf. “Hi, Kendra,” she chirped. “I wasn’t expecting you to come in today.”
    “Just think of all the fun you’d miss if