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might have had. Math might be one possibility.”
    “I don’t know whether I’m an expert at anything except getting hit on the head. Although, thankfully, my headaches are getting less frequent.”
    “What about hypnosis for bringing back memory?” Rigo had been partially hypnotized by a classmate in college, and, based on the experience he wasn’t completely convinced it was a good thing.
    “It’s a possibility. You have to be careful. There are cases on record where the person being hypnotized produced false memories.”
    Carol frowned. “Judging from the time I was probably placed in the Dumpster, the doctors think I was unconscious for about twenty-four hours. I don’t want to lose control like that again, at least not right now. Maybe later…”
    “We’ll keep that in reserve. For purposes of describing you, I need your height and weight.”
    “I looked at my hospital records. They said I was five eight and a hundred and fifteen pounds. I may have gained a couple of pounds since then.”
    “Good. You’re awfully thin. Your hair…” Carol took off her beret “…is dark brown, with bald spots.”
    “Some of my hair was shaved off because of my injuries. Those spots are temporary—I hope. But I have a permanent scar on my abdomen that isn’t new.”
    Frances noted that. “And your eyes?” Frances looked closely at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d say they’re almost violet.”
    Rigo took his turn. For a moment he had the feeling her eyes were deep wells and he was in danger of falling into them. He recovered himself with a jerk. “Definitely violet.”
    “Skin color—interesting. That of a tan Caucasian. Have you been out in the sun?”
    “Not in the last few days.”
    “I suspect your ancestry is mixed.” Frances made more notes. “Here’s an idea. You’re young. Most young people today have a presence on the Internet. Social sites like Facebook. Videos on YouTube. Pretty girls are especially likely to have their pictures out there. You have the face and figure of a model. Rigo, here’s your assignment. Search the Internet for Carol’s picture. You know the likely places better than I do.”
    Rigo faked a gasp. “Find her on the Internet? Yeah, there are only a few gazillion Web sites where she could be. It will take me at least a day to scan them. Or maybe a century.”
    “My hair might have been longer in the past. I keep thinking it’s too short.”
    “Hair length is obviously not a good way of finding a match.” Colleen studied Carol’s hair. “Neither is color, because many people dye their hair, although yours doesn’t look dyed. Your high hairline is a good indicator because that doesn’t change much. Neither does the shape of the eyebrow ridge. Skin color is iffy; any Caucasian with a tan will match your color. Your eyes are distinctive. If a photo shows a girl’s eyes clearly, that will help. We can also use the shape of your face. You’re young, and I doubt that you’ve ever been fat, so your face has probably always had the same shape.”
    Rigo was still looking for sympathy. “Not only do I have to know what Web sites to check, I also have to become an expert on comparing facial characteristics.”
    Frances didn’t appear to have any pity for him. “Do your best. We don’t have a lot to go on, so we’ve got to look at every possibility.” She turned to Carol. “What I’ll do is to put all the information we have about you on the Internet. What we’re hoping is that somebody is looking for you and will find your profile. That’s our best bet, but it may take some time. We can’t canvass the world, so we hope that the world will come to us, or at least the people who know you. You have to have patience. That’s one thing I’ve learned in this business.”
    Carol nodded. “I know. It’s hard. I suspect I’m not the patient type. I can help. I know how to surf the Internet. I’ll also check Google Earth for places I might have been.