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permanent record. The disc gets wiped.’
    ‘Run it anyway,’ Maietta called back. ‘We’ll get some donuts in.’
    ‘Great,’ Griffin uttered and sat on the edge of his desk. ‘That’ll lose us another few hours off the deadline. Why not just call the husband and find out when his wife was last walking down that street? If he knows, we can narrow the timeline down.’
    ‘She might walk it every day,’ Maietta said. ‘Besides, the guy’s an airline pilot and probably not aware of all her daily movements.’
    ‘Maybe,’ Griffin agreed, ‘but right now we need everything we can get and I doubt that she wears the same clothes every day. Maybe we could pin the day the shot was taken down from that?’
    ‘Huh,’ Maietta murmured as she reached for a phone, ‘I’m on it.’
    ‘And we need a way to sit down in front of the husband and figure out how we’re going to help this guy,’ Griffin went on. ‘If he’s not supposed to have contacted us then he needs to continue with his routine as though nothing has happened. Have we got some kind of itinerary for him?’
    ‘He’s supplied us with his flight roster for the week,’ Olsen confirmed. ‘Our best play is to talk to him at the airport, somewhere we can’t be observed and any abductors can’t get access to. They must have offices, storage depots, things like that.’
    ‘I’ll give the airline a call,’ Griffin replied, ‘see if I can’t figure something out. We need a way to get one of our people into his house. Maybe we could get one of our guys to dress up as a fellow pilot or something, come back home with him for a few beers?’
    ‘Sounds good,’ Olsen confirmed and then vanished into his office.
    ‘Sheila McKenzie owns an art gallery in a mall downtown,’ Maietta said from her desk as she looked at her computer screen. ‘You want me to call in and get us an interview?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Griffin answered, and then said: ‘No. If the perp’s an employee it’ll rattle them. Find out how many people work for her, then we’ll go in without badges as though we’re regular punters and see what gives.’
    ‘I’m heading out,’ Kathryn reported to Griffin, ‘but I’ll be back this evening.’
    ‘You mean your bodyguard’s leaving you all on your lonesome for the day?’ Maietta asked Griffin as she pinned her phone between her ear and her shoulder. ‘What ever will you do?’
    Kathryn picked up her bag and smiled sweetly at the detective.
    ‘Don’t worry, I won’t leave him for long,’ she said, and then to Griffin: ‘Be a good boy.’
    *
    Kathryn whirled and strode out of the operations room, then released a long sigh of relief as she strode out of the station to her car and checked her watch. She climbed in and drove out of the lot, the sky above now bright and blue and speckled with light clouds.
    It should have been a moment to be cherished, a time for reflection on her performance, but Kathryn was far beyond revelling in any kind of success. Too much at stake she guessed, like the rest of her entire life.
    She drove into town, parked, and made her way to a coffee shop that she had frequented often while studying for her diploma. Sitting inside the window was a portly woman with a bright smile and a waving hand. Two lattes steamed in front of her as Kathryn walked into the shop.
    Ally Robinson was a friend who like Kathryn had studied for a diploma and worked for the same company. English by birth and by nature, she had deliberately sought out small–town America for reasons nobody could really fathom and built a life for herself in Great Falls. She stood and her arms wrapped around Kathryn’s shoulders and almost lifted her off the floor as thick tresses of auburn hair wafted across her face.
    ‘Sit down Stone,’ Ally commanded as she released her friend.
    Kathryn took a seat across from Ally and sipped at her latte. A silence enveloped the table.
    ‘Get on with it then,’ Ally insisted, leaning across to peer into