I ambled to my desk, DVD in hand. The red light on my phone blinked. Voice mail. I slipped the disc into my computer’s DVD player, then listened to the phone message. The caller introduced herself as Adeline St. Lawrence. “I’m Juliet’s best friend,” she had said, and she wanted to talk to me, but today wouldn’t be good. “I’ll need you to come out to Corona, where I live, cuz my car’s on its last leg.” Then, she rambled off her address. “Anyway, her parents think I should talk to y’all. Guess I got a lot to say about all this. And I’ll talk to the devil himself if that means that hobbit motherfucka won’t get one thin dime of Jules’s money.” St. Lawrence’s last words roared in my ears. Who was the hobbit? And money? What money? I returned the woman’s call. No one answered. I left a message. Tomorrow. Ten in the morning. See you then. Colin, back in the squad room, plopped into his chair and placed his boots on the edge of my desk. “Were you raised in the mountains or something?”
