"Brian, or whatever his real name is, had a lot of jobs before he landed the gig in the Sherman Oaks Galleria. The first sign of him in L.A. was about a year ago. He was a busboy at the Pinot Gris. Three months later, he turned up as a waiter at the Hungry Pig. Two months after that, he applied for a security job at a Bank of America a few blocks away from the Hungry Pig. He hung on to that job for four months, and then he landed his job as a jewelry store manager in the Galleria."

The progression was unremarkable. They were the typical low-level jobs young adults took to make ends meet until they figured out a career goal. And the move from security guard to jewelry store manager made perfect sense to me. I shrugged. "Doesn't seem all that unusual." But Bailey's expression looked ominous.

"Not until you factor in the locations. Except for the Galleria, every single one of those jobs was within walking distance of Russell's studio. And the Galleria? That was just a stone's throw from Hayley's school."

I tried to make the pieces fit, but no matter how I turned them around in my mind, they refused to fall into place. "I would've said that sounded like Brian had been stalking Hayley for the past year, but he spent most of his time circling Russell's studio."

"Right. And we can check with the parents, but I doubt Hayley hung out at daddy's studio much."

"No." Not at this age. She had her own world. And so did daddy.

Bailey pulled up to the cybercafe, charmingly named Head of Steam. It looked like any Coffee Bean, just with more tables. As we searched the room for our tipster, I got a strange and unappealing glimpse into the future: everyone there was transfixed by a computer screen, and most wore headphones. Though there were signs of life as we know it around the cash register, the rest of the cafe was eerily quiet; the primary sound was the clicking of laptop keys, the conversations virtual, not verbal. Was this where we were headed? Eye contact traded for Skype, personal discourse traded for e-mails or, worse, blogs? Thankfully, further depressing predictions were curtailed when our tipster spotted us and waved us over.

Pierced nose and lower lip, greasy black hair combed up in back and into long spikes at the sides of his face, skinny jeans that had room to bag on even skinnier legs, and black high-top sneakers. It came as no surprise to me that his name was Legs Roscoe. With the preliminary introductions completed, we got right down to business.

"I was just hanging out-"

"Sorry to stop you, but do you remember what day it was?" I asked.

"Yeah, it was Monday. Had to be well after five o'clock."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because my last class ends at four and traffic's a bitch that time of day. So I couldn't have gotten here much before that." Legs dipped his head. "I, uh, didn't mean to 'sniff' anyone, it was just an inadvertent thing. I don't usually run into any-"

I held up my hand. "Don't sweat it. We're not here to bust you."

This seemed to calm Legs down considerably. He nodded vigorously, practically bowing at the waist in his seat. "Cool. Thanks. Cool. Well, so I catch the drift that this dude was saying he had this girl and not to call the cops-"

"Did you catch anything about money?" Bailey asked.

Legs sniffed and used a paper napkin to wipe his nose. I wondered whether the nose ring got in the way when he had a cold. I decided not to ponder that question.

"Nah, I guess I just caught the tail end of it. Reason I noticed, though, was the girl. You know, the one whose picture was just on the news? She came into the cafe while he was typing. Real pretty. Dude seemed pissed that she was there."

"What made him seem pissed?" Bailey asked. "Did he grab her? Yell at her?"

"No, nothing like that. He just seemed, I don't know...annoyed? He didn't let her sit down. Soon as she showed up, he packed up his laptop and they left."

"Did he hold on to her arm? Push her?" I asked.

Legs looked off to the left. "Not that I remember. And tell you the truth, I didn't think much of the whole deal. Seemed like a goof. The only reason I called you guys was because of the news flash about the girl."

"So she didn't look scared or upset?" I asked.

"Not to me. I mean, she wasn't laughing her ass off or anything. But she didn't look freaked."

"Do you think you'd recognize the guy if I showed you a photo?" Bailey asked.

Legs shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to try."

Bailey pulled up Brian's photo on her cell and held it in front of Legs.

He gave the photo a hard look, then nodded. "Yeah, that's the dude. No question."

"Thank you, Legs," I said. Bailey took his contact information and we stood to leave.

"So I assume the girl's been kidnapped," he said.

"Not necessarily," I semi-lied.

"But you'd appreciate it if I didn't say anything about this conversation, wouldn't you?"

The abrupt shift caught me off guard. I looked at him for a long moment. This was pretty savvy for any civilian, let alone the pierced counterculture specimen in front of me. "I can't stop you from talking, but yeah, it wouldn't hurt if you'd keep it to yourself."

"Got it."

We started to leave, but I turned back, too curious to let it go. "You said you had a class on Monday that got out at four o'clock. What class was that?"

"Not a class exactly. More like a weekly consultation. I'm finishing my Ph.D. in neuroscience."

"So it'll be Dr. Legs Roscoe soon."

"Actually, Dr. Lawrence Roscoe. But yeah. Hopefully."

At times like this I love my job.

9.

We waited till we were in the car to discuss our latest find, courtesy of Dr. Legs.

"If Brian sent the ransom note from that cafe, and this was a righteous kidnapping, then how could he let Hayley float around like that?" Bailey asked.

"My question too. The only thing I can think of right now is that maybe he hadn't made that video with her yet. Until Brian had her record that video, she didn't necessarily know what he was doing. But the fact that he hustled her out of there shows he didn't want anyone to see them together, that's for sure. And we know he was somewhere else when he made that video and sent it with the ransom note."

Bailey stared out the window for a few seconds, then nodded. "It's possible. We'll have to see whether we can figure out where the final ransom e-mail and video were sent from." She checked her cell. "Russell's and Hayley's cell phone records are in. Still waiting on Brian's."

"They're at the station?"

Bailey nodded. "Yeah. And our computer whizbangs are checking to see what they can get on the ransom e-mail, see if they can track down the computer it was sent from...so far, nothing," Bailey said. "But now that Legs put Brian and that ransom note together, it's less of a priority."

True. Regardless of where Brian was when he sent the note, the important thing was to prove he'd written it, and Legs did that for us. "Be nice to find Brian's laptop, though."

"Probably won't happen until we find Brian."

I couldn't argue with that point either. And I agreed with Bailey that we should get a look at those cell phone records sooner rather than later, but I knew that once we headed downtown, we'd probably be done for the day unless something else broke. "How about we check in with Hayley's mom before we go back to the station?"

"Okay, but then we'll need to get back and hit those records."

The tension in Bailey's voice matched my own anxiety level. Every passing minute made Hayley's safe return seem farther and farther away. But now that Brian was looking like our number one suspect, I wanted to see for myself whether either parent knew anything about him. Mackenzie didn't think Hayley had told them about Brian, but I couldn't rely on that, and I had a hunch that if Hayley had told either parent, it was more likely to be her mom.

Bailey floored it to Raynie's house, which was, indeed, close to Russell's house in the hills-just five blocks away. It was a low-slung modern home set into the hillside with an entire wall of sliding glass doors that opened to two feet of balcony and an expansive view of the city. And just like Russell's-and so many of the houses in this hood-it was propped up on stilts. Those things always made me nervous, and it didn't matter that I knew they were set in granite and probably more earthquake-proof than the courthouse.

Raynie greeted us at the curb as Bailey drove up. "Just pull in here." She pointed to a small space on the street a few feet from her front door. In the hills, all space, including parking space, was at a premium; all of the roads were steep, winding, and narrow. Raynie had her hair up in a loose bun and she wore a long white cotton skirt with multicolored embroidery around the hem and a turquoise tank top. She looked fresh as a daisy, a perfect counterpoint to my straggly hair, wilted gray slacks, and rumpled jacket. I reminded myself to pick a lighter, cooler ensemble tomorrow. I couldn't get away with Raynie's boheme maxi skirt stylings, but a dress of almost any kind would be a vast improvement over a pantsuit in this heat.

We followed Raynie inside. The house was an oven. The windows that looked out over the city also let the sun bake through. No doubt those windows could provide a stunning view, but today, all they showed was a city hazy with smog, a dark yellowtinged basin of indistinct concrete, metal, and glass. Raynie picked up a remote, and at the push of a few buttons, the electronic blinds covered the windows. Instantly the room felt ten degrees cooler.

"Sorry," she said. "I forgot to turn on the air and close the blinds this morning." She paused and swallowed. "It should cool down pretty quickly now. Can I get you anything to drink? Ice water?"

We accepted gratefully. Raynie gestured for us to have a seat on the white leather sectional couch and brought us each a glass. The walls were adorned with pictures of Hayley from birth to the present. Some were of Hayley alone, some included her friends, and others were with Raynie. None were with Russell. Not that I was surprised. A husband who decamps for a younger trophy isn't someone whose picture you need to see every day. What did surprise me was that I hadn't noticed photos of any kind at Russell's house. At least not anywhere I'd been able to see.

I dived right in. "Did you know if Hayley was dating anyone?"

Raynie took a sip of water, then held the glass in her lap between her hands and stared down at it. "She didn't bring anyone around, but she did mention having met a boy recently."

"Do you remember when she mentioned it?" I asked.

"I want to say a month ago?"

"She say when she'd met him?"

"No. Just that he was a really good guy and that he wasn't like the other boys. That he had more...substance to him. And something about him having had a tough childhood, I think." Raynie stopped and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more. I know you'll think I'm a bad mother for not pressing her for more details. But I always seemed to learn more by just letting Hayley talk than by questioning her. And in all honesty, I expected I'd meet him pretty soon if it was really serious."

"She ever mention the name Brian?"

Raynie's eyes widened. "No. Is that the boyfriend?" She looked from me to Bailey. "Is he the kidnapper?"

I looked at Bailey, who nodded. We had to tell her what we knew about Brian. Bailey filled her in. Raynie sat stunned for several long moments, then she leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. When she collected herself and sat up, she looked three shades paler.

"Do you know of any reason why someone would target Russell, or Hayley?" I asked.

"I'm sure a lot of people have an ax to grind with Russell. You don't get as big as he has in this town without collecting a raft of enemies. But Hayley?" She shook her head slowly. "I can't imagine who'd have an issue with her."

"Do they get along?" I asked. "Hayley and Russell?"

Raynie sighed. "Since the divorce...not so much. Hayley really held it against him." She grimaced. "I think that's why she spends so much time at his house in the hills. It's kind of an 'in your face' thing. Russell feels guilty and keeps trying to make it up to her by spending money on presents and being the 'cool dad'-"

"Meaning permissive?"

"Exactly. So she takes advantage. She uses the party house, his SUV limo, his credit card, as much as she can. I think it's her way of punishing him, and I don't like it. I've told her that if she's upset with him, she should talk to him about it, not use him that way." Raynie paused and gave a sigh that felt more like resignation than disappointment. "Bottom line, no, she isn't his biggest fan."

If I pulled that thread to its source, it'd lead me to believe that Hayley could've been in on her own kidnapping. The fact that we had no evidence of a struggle or any kind of force used against Hayley lent some support to that theory. And I have to admit I liked that possibility because it meant Hayley probably wasn't in danger.

Raynie's mouth stretched into a grim line. "I should've known there was something wrong when Hayley wouldn't tell me his name." She stopped and frowned. "By the way, how old is this boy?"

"Nineteen? We won't know for sure until we find out his true identity."

"Well, that's one reason she didn't bring him around," Raynie said. "I'd never have let her date someone that much older."

"Do you know all of Hayley's friends?" I asked.

"Until just now I would've said yes. I guess all I can say is that from what I know, she's had the same girlfriends since fifth grade-" Raynie abruptly stopped as her lips trembled.

I patted her hand.

Raynie took a deep breath. "The waiting...it's...I just want her home." Her voice faltered on the last word. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away.

When she'd recovered, I went back to the subject of friends. She gave us the names of the same three girls we'd already interviewed at the school.

"Hayley never was one for the big crowds or cliques," Raynie said. "That whole clubbing scene was just an act she was trying on. Like I said, partly a way to get back at Russell. The real Hayley is more of a homebody. Not a lot of friends, but they're for real; girls she'd go to the end of the world for. And, I think, vice versa."

"So she doesn't have any other friends? Girls who go to a different school, maybe?" I asked.

Raynie thought for a moment. "I don't know whether they stayed in touch, but Hayley used to be pretty close to Brittany Caren."

"The actress?" Bailey seemed taken aback. "Brittany Caren, as in the star of Circle of Friends?"

Raynie nodded.

Now the name rang a bell. "Wasn't she in a few films too?" I asked.

"Yeah, Russell casts her a lot. We've known Brittany since she was a kid, when Russell was a co-producer on Circle. Hayley was a huge fan. She used to come to the set and watch the taping. Hayley was a lot younger, so to Brittany, she was just a kid. But Brittany was incredibly sweet to her. She'd always invite Hayley to hang with her in her trailer. It sent Hayley over the moon." Raynie smiled softly at the memory. "When Hayley got older, they'd go shopping together, see movies. Brittany was the older sister Hayley wished she'd had." Raynie paused, then added, "And I think Brittany felt the same way."

"So there are no siblings from a prior marriage for either of you?" I asked. "Hayley's an only child?"

Raynie nodded. "Not by choice. We tried for another baby, but..." She sighed.

I nodded.

"Any idea when Hayley and Brittany last got together?" Bailey asked.

"It wasn't recent. Brittany kind of fell off the rails, as you probably know if you've seen the tabloids. It was so sad. She went from a sweet, lovely girl to a drunken pill head. When they canceled the show, everyone knew it was because of her."

"But she's still doing movies," Bailey said.

"Only because Russell keeps casting her-no one else will, she's a walking nightmare. He probably feels sorry for her. But knowing Hayley, I'm sure she tried to stay in touch, show her loyalty. She's not the type to cut off a friend, no matter what. She'd want Brittany to know she's still there for her." Raynie's eyes grew wet and she dropped her head briefly before continuing. "How often they see each other, or whether they still get together in person, that I don't know."

We got Brittany's contact information and address, and since there didn't seem to be anything else we could learn at the moment, we thanked Raynie and said our good-byes.

"Does Russell know about Brian yet?" she asked as we headed for the door.