"Not that I know of. She went by Falene in Seattle."

"Oh, one more thing. I should have asked you last time if you know any of her past employers."

"I'm her past employer," I said.

"Holy cow, why didn't you tell me?"

"I guess I thought you knew."

"No, I didn't. Can you track down her Social Security number?"

"I think so. I just need to call my old accountant."

"That's our golden ticket. As soon as she applies for a job, or welfare benefits, we'll find her."

"I'll track it down," I said. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'm happy to be able to do something for your pop. He's been a lifesaver to me."

"He's a good man," I said.

"You said it. You've got to be grateful for an old man like that. Mine just beat the c.r.a.p out of me, then threw me out when I was seventeen. You count your blessings."

Within the hour I had Falene's Social Security number, which I pa.s.sed on to Carroll. He called back a few hours later.

"Nothing on her yet," he said. "But she'll turn up. Unless she's bypa.s.sing the system."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes people pay under the table."

"Maybe I'll go visit her brother. I can't imagine that she won't be looking for him."

"Good idea," Carroll said. "No stone unturned."

CHAPTER Ten

We have found Falene's brother. I hope he knows where she is almost as much as I hope she doesn't know where he is.

Alan Christoffersen's diary

I called the King County jail to confirm Deron's visiting hours, then booked a one-day flight into Seattle for the Sunday after next. I was still struggling with my health and I wanted to be up for the encounter. I also figured this would give Carroll more time to track Falene down and possibly save me the trip.

He didn't find her and nine days later, my father drove me to LAX. The flight into the Sea-Tac airport was around three hours, and I had planned my trip to arrive an hour before visiting hours were scheduled to begin. I had no luggage and took a cab from the airport to the jail. It was surreal being back in Seattle. It was my first time back since I had walked out ten months ago. I had purposely scheduled my return flight for the same day so I would spend as little time in Seattle as possible. I wasn't ready to face all of the memories that the city held for me.

At the jail I went through a security screening into a long, open visiting room. I was given a booth number, then sat down in front of a thick Plexiglas window. I could see my reflection in the gla.s.s. I had forgotten how odd I looked-bald-headed with a row of staples running horizontally across my scalp.

Even though I'd never seen Falene's brother before, I knew it was he when he came into the room. He looked like a male version of Falene. He wasn't big, maybe just a few inches taller than her, and his head was shaved. He had tattoos on his neck of two entwined snakes and Gothic letters, which I guessed spelled out the name of his gang. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit with his last name printed above his left breast. Even though he was trying to look tough, I could sense his anxiety.

He sat down at a chair on the other side of the window, his dark brown eyes staring into mine. There were phones mounted on the side of the booth next to the window, which we both picked up.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Alan Christoffersen. I'm a friend of your sister."

"You know Falene?"

"Yes."

"You one of her lowlife boyfriends?"

"No. She used to work for me. At my advertising agency."

"You her boss?"

"I was."

"I know who you are. You're the guy whose stuff I helped Falene move."

I nodded. "Yeah, that was my stuff."

"What happened to your head?"

"I just had a brain tumor removed."

He glanced once more at my head, then said, "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for Falene."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I was hoping you could help me find her."

"Call her."

"She changed her number."

"She worked for you and you don't know her address?"

"She moved to New York."

He looked surprised. "She doesn't live in New York."

"When was the last time you saw her?" I asked.