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pressure in this handwriting is pretty heavy, which equals a lot of aggression.”
    Erin reached out her hand and snatched the paper back. “It’s not all that bad.” She folded it into a small square and pushed it into her jeans pocket.
    Kelly threw up her hands in annoyance. “Erin, I brought Claudia into this because she’s one of the top handwriting experts in the country. But she’s got experience investigating crimes, too.”
    Erin looked startled. “Crimes? We’re not talking about a crime.”
    “I know you must be feeling conflicted, Erin,” Claudia said. “I’m sure you love your husband and don’t want to think he would do anything bad. But if he doesn’t always write like this, then the change tells me that he’s feeling extremely anxious right now; he’s behaving in ways that he might not usually. His taking off with Kylie this way is not all right, and you’re going to have to face the fact that he may be planning something that—”
    “No! Stop! Don’t say it. Just find him. Please just find him.”

Chapter 3
     
     
     
    Erin had told them that the rally was to be held at the Marriott directly across the street from the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, on the east side of Hollywood Way. Kelly’s Toluca Lake condo was only five miles from the airport.
    Kelly drove, opting for the Golden State Freeway rather than the more direct route up Hollywood Way. Late afternoon, traffic would be bad either way, but she reasoned that at least there were no traffic signals on the freeway and they had a better chance of nonstop travel. They left the freeway and made their way toward the airport.
    “It’s too early to go to the rally,” Claudia said. “I’m craving caffeine. There’s a Starbucks next door to the airport.”
    “There’s a Starbucks every thirty feet in this town.” Kelly drove past the airport entrance and parked the Mustang convertible in the lot next door, where several fast-food restaurants had sprung up. She switched off the engine and turned to Claudia. “So, Claud, tell me. Is my sister’s brain squeezed all to hell?”
    “You mean about this religion?”
    “ Cult is what I’d call it. It sounds so creepy—independent thinking not allowed; little girls sent to a convent at three years old. Holy freaking Mother of God.” She opened her door and twisted to look back at Claudia. The pensiveness was gone from her eyes, replaced by mischief. “Gotta tell you, m’ friend, I wouldn’t say no to a nice cold martini about now.” Then she laughed. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Claudia. I’m just kidding. I know I have to show up for this one. You don’t have to be afraid I’ll sneak off to the bar.”
    Claudia climbed out of the Mustang and shot her a grin across the roof of the car. “Do they even have a bar at the Marriott?”
    “Well, of course they have a bar there—it’s a major hotel. Besides, you know that if I really wanted a drink, the absence of a bar wouldn’t stop me.” They started toward the Starbucks and Kelly nudged her friend with an elbow. “Hey, I’m not white-knuckling it, Claud, I’m fine. Right now, having clarity and figuring out this Rodney shit trumps everything else.”
    Claudia commandeered a couple of armchairs at the front of the coffeehouse. Kelly went up to the counter and placed their orders, flirting with the young barista, just to watch him squirm. She brought their drinks and Claudia shook her head, pretending despair. “You know what they call middle-aged women who flirt with boys, don’t you? Cougars.”
    Kelly laughed and growled like a big cat. “We’re only middle-aged if we live to eighty. I plan to be here for at least a hundred years.” She turned to look out the store-front window. “You can’t see the hotel at all from here.”
    “I wonder how many people they’re expecting at the rally,” Claudia said.
    “The rally in the Valley. Isn’t that just perfect? Could you believe some of the crap Erin was spouting?