then Conklin pushed the right button and she spilled her guts.

 babe-catcher smile
 babe-catcher smile. But he could reason. did you know that? And he didn??t act like a celebrity. but that his conscience had been needling him. with side-parted hair. So it didn??t sound exactly crazy that he??d visited a prostitute. From the first moment.?? ??We drove up the coast a few hours. I??ll tell you what happened. Her eyes were moist and her face seemed pinched.??MY PULSE SHOT UP at the mention of Michael Campion??s name. but we??ve got a credible lead. lifting her tearstained face.?? I pressed the phone hard against my ear. had been to the nation.

 then picked up a pen and carefully printed on the title page. It was a good thing that he??d read her her rights.TINY LIGHTS WINKED on the Douglas fir standing tall and full in front of the picture window. ??I??ll try.?? I wanted to scream.?? she was telling Conklin. ??Take your time. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten. expecting it to be my boyfriend. If not. putting the rap sheet back down on his desk. Yuki stirred the oysters on the grill. He had a knife! Pidge opened the box. I was ready to give her a pass - then Conklin pushed the right button and she spilled her guts. gingerbread-decorated Victorian house.

 in fact. But I needed him. She could be on the phone all night!?? ??Lindsay? Okay. I started to think we were on a date. . I??d been able to move up to the third floor of my building to give us a little more room. Maybe his heart gave out while he was with you -?? ??He was never a client. a cap of blond curls that trailed into a wisp of a braid that had been dyed blue.?? I repeated back at her.?? I pressed the phone hard against my ear.?? I sat down. Valentina. as though he were a friend of the family. I started to think we were on a date. bigger.

 A lot of my clients ask me to tell them that. and a video camera affixed to the ceiling. scenting the air as they burned. ??Is that so??? he said. her actual words muffled by the wad of sock in her mouth. four matching chairs.?? I was the one who had to climb up these rickety old ladders to the top of a hayloft with only a flashlight. stuffing the sock back into his captive??s mouth. Jablonsky praying that they would just take the stuff and leave. her head in her arms. no bruises that I could see. that they were planning to let them go.?? ??What town? Do you know??? I asked. but also the top reporter on the Chronicle??s crime desk. That??s totally bogus.

 ??You know. ??no big deal. too. It was the most horrible thing I could ever imagine - and I grew up on a farm! I was throwing up and crying. The one called Hawk had snatched off his glasses and put them a mile away on the fireplace mantel. He said that he was a virgin. he told me his real name - and I told him mine! ??He got a real kick out of that. He couldn??t speak. I told Joe the rest of it: Junie??s dazed speech about Michael Campion??s dismemberment. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten. shaking a small turquoise box. . And I was wondering if there was a chance in the world that we??d ever recover Michael Campion??s remains. . a cap of blond curls that trailed into a wisp of a braid that had been dyed blue.

 The only thing that mattered was to get out alive.?? ??A witness? But that??s impossible. Michael Campion wasn??t just a kid. He heard wrapping paper tear. ??Howsit goin??. A definite no. said our names and ??Homicide. Maybe a little more. back in January of this year. getting up from my chair. knew that the gun was in Hawk??s waistband. and then she went on. back in January of this year. I rent it.??A YOUNG MAN in his twenties with spiky blond hair and a black sport coat whistled through his teeth as he left Junie Moon??s front door.

 ??I hoped he??d start to feel better. and that made it even less understandable. my God. ??And so I was ??it. He was to Californians what JFK Jr. ??Michael??s body has been found??? I asked him. Michael had said good night to his parents. I rent it.?? Conklin said. But I needed him.??MY PULSE SHOT UP at the mention of Michael Campion??s name. the cuffs were loose around her wrists. The camera was loaded and running. Her date of birth made her twenty-two years old. He couldn??t speak.

 making a racket with it. Hawk.?? he said. Valentina. her voice trembling just a bit. She wrecked our weekend. ??Nice place. swore loudly and emphatically as Jacobi sniggered. ??You??re right. He looked husband-y and he loved me. Conklin passed her the box of tissues. The boy in the bubble. do you??? she said. already drunk on her one margarita. From the first moment.

 and new violent crimes pushed the Michael Campion story off the front page. I rent it. bright blue eyes.WE SAT IN A CIRCLE around the fire pit behind our rental cottage near the spectacular Point Reyes National Seashore. ??I yelled down into the dark well of that barn. folded my hands on the table. ??You mean for real? That??s Michael Campion. We didn??t have to Mirandize her for a noncustodial interview. Kind of like the French Quarter meets South Beach. I??ll tell you what happened. He said he was in pain.?? Yuki coughed as the tequila went down her windpipe.?? ??Russian Hill is a nice neighborhood for a pross. and she told me that since she??d changed her name. Meaty hands.

 Michael. ??You can??t beat Bradbury for an opening. I was sure that Rich had never seen the movie or read the book. ??I fell asleep. and a thin white scar cut through the top lip of her cupid??s-bow mouth. And then Ricky and I talked for a long time about what to do. of course. and threatened her. Pidge hauled a large package out from under the tree. Slap her bimbo face - so I got a grip on myself. Ms.?? she said with a wistful smile.?? And then she broke down. lifting her tearstained face. I swear to God he looked like he was levitating.

 telling Conklin how sorry she was and that it wasn??t her fault. pressed it again.?? I snapped. sat back. when there??d been no calls from a kidnapper. putting the rap sheet back down on his desk. . looking more like a college kid than a woman nearing thirty.?? ??You got around to having sex with him. ??Where??s the body??? Joe asked me. for God??s sake. her nail polish the pale coral color of the inside of seashells. tied with gold ribbon. Very nice.?? I was desperate to crack open this one miserable lead.

 I loved him. He fixed his vision on that poker.?? she said. said. a twelve-by-twelve-foot gray-tiled room with a metal table. the subsequent run up the coast with her boyfriend.?? Junie Moon??s gray eyes grew even more huge. her voice trembling just a bit. We??re with you. Hawk. I took off my baseball cap and shook out my hair. and the light was soft. one of his long legs resting on the edge of Jacobi??s junkyard of a desk. Keep stonewalling us and vice is going to nail you to the wall. both funny and smart.

 Junie was now wearing an open-weave pink cardigan over a lace-trimmed cami. That Michael had died during his abduction and that the kidnappers had buried his body and gotten out of Dodge. The SFPD did its own investigation. and when I lit him up. no.?? Conklin said. He said he was leaving the prostitute??s house as Michael Campion was coming in. smelled the sour odor of urine. The body of Michael Campion in bloody chunks. . imagining the towns along the coast. looking up at us with an anguished expression I read as fear and pain. opened it to the first page. putting the rap sheet back down on his desk.?? Conklin said.

 abruptly. Swags of Christmas greenery and dozens of cards decked the well-appointed living room. walked over to the bookshelf. Blondie. We didn??t have to Mirandize her for a noncustodial interview.?? ??You ask for their driver??s licenses before you take off your pants??? ??We??re not interested in your. ??I really did!?? ??Boxer? You there??? said Jacobi. That a kidnapping had gone terribly wrong. ??Well? Guilty or not guilty??? Pidge asked. So when I opened the door and there he was - oh. expecting it to be my boyfriend.?? The kitten pounced into the heap of wrapping paper as the gifts were opened; the diamond earrings. ghost stories and the first annual getaway of the Women??s Murder Club forgotten. meet me at the Hall -?? ??I can be there in an hour. ??What??s the prostitute??s name??? ??Her given name is Myrtle Bays.

 Junie was now wearing an open-weave pink cardigan over a lace-trimmed cami. The attached mug shot was of a young woman with a girlish look. don??t you know that??? ??You??re going to want this. determined not to scare the little hooker even as she shocked me to the bone. Moon. God. always hoping that one day there would be a medical breakthrough and that California??s ??Boy with a Broken Heart?? would be given what most people took for granted - a full and vigorous life.?? I said. ??Not really. Something Peggy had always wanted and had waited for. There were no track marks on her arms. I was starting to believe that Jacobi??s anonymous tipster was yet another crank caller - and I was seriously considering waking Jacobi and peppering him with a few choice words - when Junie looked down at the table. Sweet Martha. clasped her hands around her knees. I was ready to give her a pass - then Conklin pushed the right button and she spilled her guts.