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Less than a minute later, Claudia found an address book in the bottom drawer of Lindsey’s night stand.

“Maybe we’ll find the names on the spreadsheet,” she said, flipping through the pages.

Jovanic glanced over from the armoire he was examining. “That’d be a nice break. Let me know if you recognize any.”

“They’re all girls’ names: Breanna Anderson; Kandy Boots—if that isn’t a hooker’s name. I wonder if they all worked for her.” She turned a few more pages. “Toni Giardina...”

“Hey, I know her,” Jovanic interjected. “Toni Giardina. She’s a pro. She was, anyway.”

“A pro? As in prostitute?”

“I busted her a couple of years back when I worked Hollywood Vice.”

Claudia gave him the cocked-eyebrow. “You remember the names of all your busts?”

“No, but this is one bust you couldn’t forget.” He grinned sheepishly at his pun. “She was a teenage Dolly Parton. Sixteen, a real looker, even under a ton of makeup and a crazy red wig. My partner and I got her into the Children of the Night program. Supposed to help her turn her life around. Maybe it didn’t take.”

“I wonder if Lindsey recruited...” She broke off, staring at the next name. “Oh, man...”

“Whatcha got?”

“Ivan kept saying something that sounded like ‘brand.’ And that word he wrote that we couldn’t decipher? This is it! Look...
Brandi
Jones. He was trying to tell us her name. Maybe this Brandi has the tapes, or at least knows where they are.”

Jovanic crossed the room and took the address book from her. “Ever thought of changing careers?” he asked with a wink. “You can be my new partner.”

Claudia arrived home around eleven after dropping Jovanic back at his Jeep, which he’d left at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. He had followed her most of the way back to her house, turning onto a side street just before she’d reached Ballona Creek.

Friday night, and she’d spent it at a murder scene, trolling for a mystery video.

A real hot date.

Kelly would get a laugh out of that. Claudia locked the door behind her, kicked off her shoes with a groan of relief and peeled out of her suit jacket. The pantyhose went next, landing on the couch in a heap beside her purse. Without the protection of her outer clothing, goose bumps pebbled her flesh. The warmth she had carried home with her from the evening spent with Jovanic receded a little as she shivered, wondering why the air temperature inside the house was so cool.

For a moment she considered building a fire, but the hour was late and a hot drink would be easier. Padding to the kitchen, she froze in the doorway. Across the darkened room, the soft glow of the outside porch light shone through the back door, which stood ajar.

She crossed the room in slow motion, not wanting to admit the obvious—that someone had entered her home while she was away. She checked the doorframe. No splintering, no sign that the lock had been jimmied.

Had she checked to make sure the door was all the way closed and locked when she’d left that morning? Of course she had. There had been a rash of burglaries lately in the Marina area, and she was always careful about locking up. She thought back over her early-morning activities. After the phone call from Jovanic, she had showered and dressed for her meeting with Lillian Grainger, leaving the house around nine.

Returning to the living room, she stood statue-still, tension tightening her stomach. Listening to the silence. Ears stretching for the faintest sound. Absorbing the atmosphere. Would she sense an unwelcome presence?

Moving stealthily to the coat closet, Claudia opened the door, cringing at the loud click it made. Holding her breath, waiting for any telltale answering sounds from upstairs, she grabbed her baseball bat from behind the box of Christmas gift wrap. She had never been much of a ball player, but a woman living alone needed some kind of protection, and a gun would be her last weapon of choice.

The adhesive tape wrapped around the handle of the heavy wooden bat felt rough in her hands. She eased her way up to the second floor in bare feet, taking care to avoid the treads that creaked.

In her bedroom, she checked inside the closet and under the bed, never doubting that she would swing the bat with all her might if she had to face down an intruder.

She made a rapid assessment of her small stash of heirloom jewelry, a legacy from her grandmother. The ruby ring and the emerald necklace were nestled safely in their carved wooden box. The guest room appeared undisturbed, but when she crept into her office and over to her desk, she knew immediately that something was wrong.

The screen saver should have been active on her computer monitor, but the screen was black. The CPU had been switched off. Her mind ticked automatically through the facts: she always left the computer on; if there had been an outage, the clocks would be blinking; the clocks were not blinking; therefore, no power outage.

The semi-organized chaos on her desk looked just as she had left it, but someone had been through the stacks, she knew it in her gut. Quickly riffling through the piles of paper, she satisfied herself that nothing had been taken. The envelope Earl Nelson had given her containing the exploitive photos of Lindsey was where she had left it.

Claudia threw on sweatshirt and pants, then headed back downstairs. She closed the back door and snapped the deadbolt into place, then went back through the living room and out on the deck to study the street.

About halfway down the block and across the street she could see a van with a florist’s logo on the side. Had it been there when she’d arrived home? She didn’t think so, but she’d been busy thinking about Jovanic and it was possible that she had missed it.

Claudia didn’t believe in coincidences. Not that week, anyway.

“Give me ten minutes,” Jovanic said, answering his cellular. “I’m on my way.”

“Nothing’s missing, but someone was here.”

“Get me the license plates on the van, in case he leaves. I’ll run them on the way over. Your name and picture were on the news, and it’s not hard to find out where you live.”

With that less-than-comforting thought, she stayed outside until his Jeep turned the corner. He slowed to a stop behind the van and sat there for a couple of minutes until a black and white patrol car arrived and parked behind him. He exited the Jeep, his weapon in his hand. After speaking to the uniforms, he strode over to the van.

Jovanic stole along the fender and peered cautiously into the driver’s window. He veered around the back, circling the vehicle and reappearing at the front end. He went back to the patrol car again and leaned in the window for a moment, talking to the uniforms.

As they drove slowly down the street, he got back into the Jeep and parked it in Claudia’s driveway.

Inside, he stripped off his leather bomber jacket and laid it next to the clothes Claudia had left on the couch. “I’ve asked for a cruiser to drive by a couple of times during the night,” he told her as they sat together at the kitchen table, going over the details.

“Thanks, that makes me feel a little safer.”

Jovanic rose and went to the service porch. Crouching on his heels, he peered at the door. “Do you have a magnifying glass? I want to take a closer look.”

Claudia ran up to her office, returning with one of the powerful lenses she used to reveal the hidden details in handwriting. She aimed a flashlight over his shoulder while he examined the lock through the magnifier, drawing her attention to some very fine scratches.

“Get the locks changed right away, Claudia; the suspect could have made himself a key.”

“Shit! I’m having an alarm installed.”

“Got anything to help you sleep tonight?”

“A glass of wine sounds mighty appealing right about now. Care to join me?”

“Sure, thanks.” Jovanic locked the door and followed her into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter while she poured the wine. “You got an extra blanket? That couch in your office looks pretty comfortable.”

He must have fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Through her bedroom wall, Claudia heard his breathing even out and the sound of light snores. He’d been at the hospital with Ivan since last night, and investigating the attack late the night before that. It must have been the first real sleep he’d had in forty-eight hours.

Even after the bottle of Merlot they had shared, sleep didn’t come so readily for Claudia. A jumble of images rolled around in her head: Lindsey’s funeral; Lindsey’s brother, Earl Nelson; Zebediah’s revelations about Lindsey’s childhood. And Ivan Novak, a man she had scarcely known, but who had suddenly become the focus of her life.

Before she had arrived at complete consciousness the next morning, Claudia’s nose caught the fragrance of freshly brewed coffee. Momentary confusion was followed by embarrassment when she realized that Jovanic must have introduced himself to her kitchen. Her modern single woman’s nearly-empty refrigerator wasn’t stocked for guests. She took a quick shower and came downstairs to discover that he had made himself at home. Coffee and a toasted bagel awaited her. He must have made an early morning trip to the bagel shop in town.

Jovanic drew out a chair for her at the kitchen table. In yesterday’s wrinkled shirt and trousers, and with the rough stubble of a five o’clock shadow more than twenty-four hours old, he looked slightly sinister. And intensely attractive.

Kind of like a Jane Austin hero,
Claudia mused, taking a sip from the mug he set before her.
Or a twenty-first century Maxim deWinter,
She looked up at him and smiled. “A man who can make good coffee. I’m impressed.”

“The least of my talents,” he said with an enigmatic lift of his brow.

Opting for the safe route, she changed the subject. “So, what’s next on the agenda, Columbo?”

“I have an appointment with Senator Heidt later this morning.” He dumped a couple of heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “I’ll rattle his cage a little. If he’s as slimy as Doctor Bostwick, I’ll have to dig harder.”

Claudia got up and rooted around in the pantry for a jar of marmalade, wondering whether he would invite her along. “If you can believe it, he’s even slimier.” She spread jam on the bagel and offered him the jar, which he declined. “In my opinion, he’s the
worst
kind of slime because he’s two-faced. He’s being appointed as co-chair on a presidential committee to address
women’s issues.
A customer on Lindsey’s spreadsheet, for Chrissake! How hypocritical is that?”

Jovanic showed mock surprise. “You don’t think he’s sincere in his appreciation for women?”

“Sincere my ass. After Lindsey’s funeral, there was this woman at the reception. She was all over him. He couldn’t push her away fast enough. Pretended not to know her. It was pretty obvious he did, and she mentioned Lindsey.”

Jovanic made the connection. “You think this woman is part of the sex business?”

“Could be. At the funeral I overheard her say that she didn’t believe Lindsey killed herself. I wish I could remember her name. I know it was unconventional, but it wasn’t Brandi.”

He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of Brandi, I called her earlier and left a message. I’ve got an hour before I have to go home and clean up for Heidt. You up for a walk on the beach?”

They turned in the direction of Marcia’s house in time to see the Chevy van with the florist logo being hoisted onto a flatbed tow truck. “One of yours?” Claudia asked.

“Yeah. They’ll impound it and forensics will go over it for prints and any other evidence... hairs, fibers. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some DNA evidence that links it to Ivan.”

“I wonder what happened to the guy who left it here.”

“Probably realized the van had been made... you know, identified.”

Marcia came to the door in a terrycloth bathrobe, her head wrapped in a striped towel, turban-style. Her jaw dropped when Claudia told her about the break-in. “Oh, no! Are you okay?”

Jovanic stepped forward. “Marcia, did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary yesterday?”

Marcia tightened the belt on her robe, a frown creasing her forehead as she thought about it. “You know, come to think of it, some guy was knocking at your place yesterday, Claudia. I came outside to get the newspaper and Flare started going nuts when she saw him, so I brought her back in. Man, I thought he was just selling something.”

“What time was that?” Jovanic asked.

“I’m not real sure, maybe around nine-thirty.”

Nine-thirty. Shortly after Claudia had left for her appointment. He must have been watching her as she left.

Jovanic jotted on his notepad. “Did you notice the van parked down the street?”

“What van?”

“The one that’s being towed right now.”

Marcia stepped out onto the porch and saw the tow truck. “Oh, hey, no, I didn’t.”

“Do you think you could you describe the man you saw yesterday?”

Marcia delved in the side pocket of her robe and took out a pack of smokes and a lighter. “Jeez, lemme think.” She lit up, turning her head to blow the smoke from the corner of her mouth. Claudia noticed that Jovanic turned his face in the direction of the smoke and breathed in. He searched his pockets, but apparently had used his last toothpick.

“I wasn’t paying that much attention.” Marcia pursed her lips, eyes narrowing as she recalled the visitor. “I got the impression he was young, maybe early twenties. Dark hair, average height, kinda hefty. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific.”

“How was he dressed?”

“Hmmmm. Levi’s, I think, and a dark shirt... long sleeves.”

Claudia’s heart banged against her ribs like a trip hammer. A stranger had gained entry to her home almost without leaving a trace. If he hadn’t been careless about closing the kitchen door, she would never have known he’d been there. What had he wanted? Had he accomplished what he set out to do?

“Try not to worry too much,” Jovanic said, as they went down the path to the beach with Flare padding ahead of them. “I doubt he’ll come back. He had all yesterday to look around.”