One of the two women employees told me he had “business in San Francisco” that morning and expected to return by one o’clock. Could she help me? Or did I want to leave a message for Mr. Canaday? I said no to both questions, that I’d check back early afternoon. Better to brace him cold. Scott Ostrander was next on my list. But when I got to Ostrander’s Nursery and Landscaping Service, the front gate was locked and bore a CLOSED sign. There were no posted hours, but it seemed unusual that a struggling business wouldn’t be open at eleven on a weekday morning. Unless the Ostranders’ financial troubles had slid beyond the struggling point and the nursery had been shut down by them or their creditors. I went to two of the neighboring businesses to see what I could find out. Not much. None of the people I talked to knew why the nursery was closed; it had been open on Saturday and was normally open every day except Sunday. The Ostranders lived in a modest Orinda neighborhood of small tract houses maybe twenty years old.
