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want to do the right thing.”
    Claudia asked, “Are you sure there’s nobody your husband might have told about his plans?”
    Erin hesitated, looking speculative. “You know, Rod does have a close friend at the Ark. I can’t imagine that James would help him do something like this, but I guess it’s possible. Rod might have talked to him and told him what he was doing. We were given a cell phone so we could call in while we were away, so he could have called him.”
    “You don’t even have your own cell phone?” Kelly sounded incredulous and Claudia could see her frustration building. Her own free spirit couldn’t comprehend the lifestyle her younger sister had chosen.
    “We don’t need our own phone. We’re almost always at the Ark.”
    “Who is this friend of Rod’s, and how can we get hold of him?” Claudia asked quickly before they could get off track and start a debate about the relative merits of cell phone ownership.
    Erin bit into her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully for a few moments before answering. “His name is James Miller. Rod and James have known each other all their lives; they’re as close as brothers. If he was going to ask anyone for help, it would be James. You know what? . . . Oh, never mind; it wouldn’t work.”
    “What?” Kelly demanded. “What are you thinking?”
    “It’s just that we’re holding a rally tonight in Burbank. James is in charge of the AV, so he’ll have to be there. He’s the one who sets up the projector and runs the computer at all our events.”
    “A rally?” echoed Claudia.
    “We have them every couple of months in different locations. People who are interested in getting saved come to hear Brother Harold. He opens them up to some of the TBL teachings.”
    “You mean they’ll be recruiting new members,” Claudia said.
    “Well, it’s more than that, but I guess you would see it that way.”
    “We could go, Claud.” Kelly started to get excited. “We’ll kick some spiritual ass.”
    Erin made a gulping sound as if her sister’s remark shocked her. Her present self-righteousness was a far cry from the fifteen-year-old runaway who had taken refuge from the mean streets of Hollywood at the TBL Ark.
    “What?” Kelly asked, feigning innocence. “I meant it in the nicest way. We’ll pretend we’re interested in joining, and get this James Miller to tell us what he knows.”
    Claudia had less enthusiasm for the idea. “That sounds like it’s easier said than done. If we go, let’s just talk to him directly. We don’t have to pretend—”
    “No, Kelly’s right,” Erin said. “As much as I hate not being totally up front with Brother Harold, it’s better if you act like you’re interested. James is much more likely to talk to you that way.”
    “Don’t worry, Erin, I’ll get him to talk,” Kelly said with a suggestive wiggle of her hips.
    “You might want to remember, there’s a child at stake here,” Claudia said, irked. “The police may call Rodney’s note ambiguous, but I don’t like the sound of it—and remember, I’m not too crazy about the handwriting.”
    “But that’s not how he always writes,” Erin protested, making Claudia wonder why she felt the need to defend the husband who had run off with their daughter.
    “He printed like that for this note, so it’s significant,” Claudia said.
    “Well, he doesn’t always print like that. What’s it mean anyway?”
    “The printing is done very slowly and carefully, which indicates a stronger than average need for control. Block printing makes it easier to control the pen, and that translates into controlling other aspects of life. Then there’s the writing pressure.” Claudia turned the paper over and showed Erin the indentations on the backside. “In general, the degree of pressure the pen exerts on the paper—in other words, how hard you press down—symbolizes how much aggression you’re carrying around, and how much you act it out against the world. The