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town somewhere and she's very upset. I don't understand what's going on."
    "Miss Daggett, I'm not a parole officer," I said. "I don't know when he got out or why nobody notified you. Your mother's problems didn't start yesterday."
    A bit of color came to her cheeks. "That's true. Her problems started the day she married him. He's ruined her life. He's ruined life for all of us."
    "Are you referring to his drinking?"
    She brushed right over that. "I want to know where he's staying. I have to talk to him."
    "At the moment, I have no idea where he is. If I find him, I'll tell him you're interested. That's the best I can do."
    "My uncle tells me you saw him on Saturday."
    "Only briefly."
    "What was he doing in town?"
    "We didn't discuss that," I said.
    "But what did you talk about? What possible business could he have had with a private detective?"
    I had no intention of giving her information, so I tried her technique and ignored the question.
    I pulled a legal pad over and picked up a pen. "Is there a number where you can be reached?"
    She opened her handbag and took out a business card which she passed across the desk to me. Her office address was three blocks away on State and her title indicated that she was chairman and chief executive officer of a company called FMS.
    As if in response to a question, she said, "I develop financial management software systems for manufacturing firms. That's my office number. I'm not listed in the book. If you need to reach me at home, this is the number."
    "Sounds interesting," I remarked. "What's your background?"
    "I have a math and chemistry degree from Stanford and a double masters in computer sciences and engineering from USC."
    I felt my brows lift appreciatively. I couldn't see any evidence that Daggett had ruined her life, but I kept the observation to myself. There was clearly more to Barbara Daggett than her professional status indicated. Maybe she was one of those women who succeeds in business and fails in relationships with men. As I'd been accused of that myself, I decided not to make a judgment. Where is it written that being part of a couple is a measure of anything?
    She glanced at her watch and stood up. "I have an appointment. Please let me know if you hear from him."
    "May I ask what you want with him?"
    "I've been urging Mother to file for divorce, but so far she's refused. Maybe I can persuade him instead."
    "I'm surprised she didn't divorce him years ago."
    Her smile was cold. "She says she married him 'for better or for worse.' To date, there hasn't been any 'better.' Maybe she's hoping for a taste of that before she gives up."
    "What about his imprisonment? What was that for?"
    Something flickered in her face and I thought at first she wouldn't answer me. "Vehicular manslaughter," she said, finally. "He was drunk and there was an accident. Five people were killed, two of them kids."
    I couldn't think of a response and she didn't seem to expect one. She stood up, closed the conversation with a perfunctory handshake, and then she was gone. I could hear her high heels tapping away down the corridor.

Chapter 5
    By the time I closed up the office and got down to my car, the clouds overhead looked like dark gray vacuum cleaner fluff and the rain had begun to splatter the sidewalk with polka dots. I stuck Daggett's file on the passenger seat and backed out of my space, turning right from the parking lot onto Cannon, and right again onto Chapel. Three blocks up, I made a stop, ducking into the supermarket to pick up milk, Diet Pepsi, bread, eggs, and toilet paper. I was into my siege mentality, looking forward to pulling up the drawbridge and waiting out the rain. With luck, I wouldn't have to go out for days.
    The phone was ringing as I let myself in. I put the grocery bag on the counter and snatched up the receiver.
    "God, I was just about to give up," Jonah said. "I tried the office, but all I got was your answering machine."
    "I closed up for the day. I can work at home