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“No, Dad. I don’t want a beer. I want to know what the hell you guys are talking about.”

“Whoa. Calm down. No need to get all up—”

Suddenly a tired voice called out from behind them. “I…I could use a little help.”

5

Logan turned.

Tooney was standing at the end of the short hallway that led back to the master bedroom, leaning against the wall for support.

Harp and Jerry were the first out of their chairs, but Logan was the first to reach him.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down?” Logan asked as he put his arm around Tooney, allowing the older man to lean against him.

“I lay down long enough already. Besides, I’m hungry.”

“We can bring you some pizza to the bedroom,” Logan suggested, then tried to turn Tooney around, but the older man showed surprising strength for a guy in his condition, and didn’t budge.

“I want to eat in here.”

“Bring him over to the table,” Harp said.

Logan wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, but it seemed to be what Tooney wanted, so he carefully led him over, and helped him into a chair. As soon as Tooney was settled, Barney had him open his eyes wide, asked him a few questions, then declared him healthy enough to eat. Sometimes it paid to have a doctor around, Logan thought, even a retired one who was apparently okay with lying to the authorities.

“Any news?” Harp asked.

The rest of the men stopped what they were doing, interested in the answer. But Tooney shook his head. “Tried five times. Same as before.”

Logan felt the tension level in the room rise a notch. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?”

There were shared looks, then Harp leaned toward Tooney. “I think we should do what we talked about. Logan can be discrete.”

Tooney sighed, then nodded. “Okay. I don’t know what else to do.”

 Logan prepared himself to once again direct Tooney to the Sheriff’s department. He was so expecting to hear something like, “please find out more about the guy who attacked me this morning,” that he only partially heard what Tooney really said.

“What?” he asked, his focus returning to the here-and-now. “Say that again.”

“I want you to find my granddaughter.”

Logan took a second to let his mind adjust. “Your granddaughter’s missing?”

“I don’t know. I think so, yes.”

“You think so. Look, I hate to sound like a broken record, but if she’s missing, you should call the police.”

“No,” Tooney said quickly. “I…I might be wrong. And I don’t want to cause any…problems.”

“Well, when did she go missing?”

“I don’t know if she is missing. She was supposed to arrive this afternoon.”

“Here? In Cambria?”

Tooney nodded. “She goes to school in Los Angeles. She was coming up to spend a few days of spring break with me. But she not show up.”

“Well, you’re here,” Logan pointed out. “Maybe she’s at your house right now.”

“Alice and Glenda are over there,” Barney said. Glenda was Barney’s wife, and Alice was either Alan’s or Jerry’s, Logan couldn’t remember which. “They’ll call us if Elyse shows up.”

“That’s her name? Elyse?” Logan asked Tooney.

He nodded.

Logan looked at the clock on the wall. It was only a few minutes after six. “It’s early. She’s probably still on the way.”

Tooney looked unconvinced. “She supposed to leave at ten this morning. Even if she stop for lunch, she here by three.”

Glancing at the others, Logan asked, “Has anyone checked traffic? Maybe there was an accident on the one-oh-one that slowed everything down.”

“No accidents,” Alan said. “We also checked hospitals, just in case.”

That was going to be Logan’s next question.

“I been trying to call her all day,” Tooney said, “but only get her voicemail.”

“All day?”

“He wanted to tell her about this morning,” Harp explained quickly. “Didn’t want her to be surprised when she showed up.”

In Logan’s experience, people liked to delay news like that, especially if the other person was traveling so as not to worry them.

“We were thinking,” Logan’s dad continued, his voice now tentative, “maybe you could pop down there tonight. See if she’s home. You know, make sure she’s all right.”

Logan felt an uneasy tingling under his skin. “Go to Los Angeles?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Dad, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“But I’m the boss. I’ll just have Alejandro take care of anything you’ve been working on. And whatever expenses you have…” He looked around the table. “We’re going split them among the group.”

“I would probably just pass her on the way down,” Logan argued.

“Great, then that would mean everything’s fine,” Harp said. “We’re only asking because Tooney wants to go himself. So far we’ve been able to talk him out of it. If you don’t do it, I’m afraid he won’t listen to us any more.”

A thousand thoughts swirled through Logan’s mind. Thoughts about his routine and the dream and the past. He looked at Tooney, whose eyes were full of desperation, and then at his father, whose eyes were full of hope.

“What’s her address?”

6

Logan went home to exchange the Rodeo for his own car, a 1969 electric blue Chevrolet El Camino. It was more vehicle than he needed, but it was in a hell of a lot better shape than the SUV.

Before leaving, he went up to his apartment, and found his travel bag at the back of his closet. He stared at it for a moment before taking it out. It was a backpack, small enough to be a carry-on, but large enough to hold everything he needed.

The thing was, it was part of his old life, back from when he’d been on the road all the time, before his ex-wife had walked out on him, and when his best friend had still been alive. He kept the bag pre-packed with things he knew he would always need: a couple of changes of clothes, paper, pens, batteries, passport, toiletries, and a few other odds and ends that had always come in handy. And though he hadn’t gone anywhere since moving back to Cambria, the bag sat ready to go if he ever needed it.

Stay, a voice in the very back of his mind said. Let someone else find her. You’ll just screw it up. Better to stay. Better to keep to your routine.

A year ago, that voice would have won out, maybe even six months ago, or three, or perhaps one. But when he grabbed the bag, he realized the balance had tipped at some point, even if just a bit. What that meant, who knew? Before he could dwell on it, he stuffed his laptop in the bag, and headed out to his car.

It took him forty minutes to reach the 101 highway. Once he was cruising south, he pulled out the picture of Elyse that Tooney had given him at his dad’s house. It was a high school graduation shot, so a couple of years old, but Tooney had said she looked the same. She had a warm smile, and intelligent, caring eyes, and was cute in that geeky, Comic-Con kind of way. She’d never be elected homecoming queen, but fanboys would have done whatever she asked if it meant they could hang out with her.

“So where are you?” he asked.

Not surprisingly, the picture didn’t answer.

He reached the outskirts of L.A. just after 10 p.m., but didn’t pull up in front of the apartment Elyse shared with three other students until a few minutes before eleven. It was located in Westchester, near the Los Angeles International Airport. Tooney had told Logan Elyse was attending Otis College of Design, less than a mile away, where she was studying to become a motion graphics designer. He wasn’t completely sure what that meant, and neither was Logan, but it probably wasn’t important.