‘Amen to that.’ Leighton nodded.

Vicki watched, as some unreadable emotion crossed Leighton’s face.

‘Do you miss it,’ Vicki asked, shifting her tone. ‘The job, I mean?

Leighton glanced at her for a moment, then returned his attention to the road. ‘I miss some of the people from the station, but no, I don’t miss the job in the slightest.’

‘But, it must be a good feeling when you solve a murder.’

Leighton said nothing, and his weighty silence was enough to let Vicki know he was unlikely to talk about the job.

They were now heading up through the orchards fringing the free-way north-east of San Bernardino. Vicki gazed out of the window at the neat lines of the orange groves. She wondered how far exactly Laurie had travelled. Perhaps, she had left the bus somewhere out here, and vanished amongst the aromatic trees.

They were driving through Verdemont, when Leighton smiled, and adopted a formal announcer’s voice.

‘And if you look to your right, ladies and gentleman, you will see a lovely little Pet Cemetery…’

‘What, you’re kidding, right?’ Vicki sat up, and within a few minutes, she saw he was telling the truth. A cheerful sign on the opposite side of the free-way indicated the place where beloved family pets could rest in peace. Vicki smiled at the idea of it, then glanced back at the dashboard of the car.

‘You don’t have sat-nav?’ she asked.

‘What?’

‘You’ve driven sixty or so miles, without glancing a road sign?

‘I used to work Traffic before homicide. My job kind of gave me an internal compass. I’ve never really been a big fan of technology.’

‘Yeah.’ Vicki glanced at his archaic cassettes. ‘I get that.’

She looked out of the window again at the sand-coloured hills on the horizon. It seemed like another country in comparison to her ocean view at home. Yet, Vicki thought there was something about the desert landscape that seemed to mirror the sea. It seemed just as vast and unknown.

Turning back to Leighton, she found him looking to the distant horizon, and wondered if this arid world felt like home to him.

‘Did you like it out here in open country - amongst the Joshua trees, and lizards?’

‘I didn’t work this far outside of the city. But I liked taking a drive up here with my kid on my days off.’

‘Yeah? So, how come you moved across to homicide?’

Leighton sighed, and shifted in his seat, but said nothing. Up ahead, a couple of motor-homes were playing leapfrog, and slowing down the traffic.

‘Well?’ Vicki persisted. ‘Did you get a speeding ticket, or show up drunk for work?’

Leighton glanced at her quickly, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘There was nothing scandalous; I just came across a bad accident on the road, one rainy night.’

‘Ah.’ Vicki nodded. ‘A whole lot of fatalities?’

‘No, actually, there was just one,’ Leighton said, and smiled sadly. ‘But, it belonged to my seventeen-year-old daughter. You mind if I put some music on?’ His hand clambered over the cassette cases, sending some spilling on to the floor.

‘Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you.’

Vicki carefully gathered the cassettes up, and restored the order. She slotted a tape into the mouth of the player, and the sound of Booker White filled the car, eclipsing any further awkward conversation. For a while, there was nothing but warm road and the hissy old music. Eventually, the tape ended, and the player spat it out in a slow, mechanical manner.

‘I’m sorry, Leighton,’ Vicki said in the moment of silence, and looked at the floor.

‘It’s okay,’ Leighton said. ‘Bad things happen to people every day. I reckon that just happened to be my day. Anyway, this traffic’s not going anywhere - must be problems coming in from the Ontario freeway. You fancy a coffee while it settles?’ Leighton pointed to a green roadside sign for a diner up ahead.

‘Sure.’ Vicki, nodded too enthusiastically. ‘That sounds really good.’

Leighton drove on to the exit ramp leading to the parking lot of a small café.

The place was busy for a midweek morning. Inside the red brick building, truck drivers and coach trippers occupied most of the booth seats, eating oversized breakfasts of fried food. Vicki offered to pick up their coffees, if Leighton agreed to secure one of the few free picnic tables outside. He accepted, and made his way to the picnic area, picking up a newspaper from the rack en route.

There was a small grassed area at the back of the diner, where a cluster of chunky wooden tables was scattered around haphazardly. Leighton selected a one furthest away from the dull stench of the garbage bins and the screeching chaos of the kiddies play area.

As he sat down, he dragged his hands over his eyes, then looked to the horizon for a moment. To the north-east, he could see the impressive Marshall Peak against the hazy blue sky. He had managed to avoid driving around this area for several years, but now he was back, as if summoned by his private ghosts. He wondered if he was doing the right thing, agreeing to trip back to his past, especially with a young woman. But, before he could arrive at any conclusion, a shadow passed over him.

‘Here you go.’ Vicki smiled, as she carried the brown tray of coffee and pastries to the table where Leighton was sitting, peering at the back page of the LA Times.

‘Let me help you,’ he said, as he stood awkwardly.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, placing the tray down. Vicki then sat, and handed a crinkled paper coffee cup to Leighton.

‘I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I’d feel bad eating a Danish in front of you, so I got two almond croissants, oh, and two cinnamon whirls.’

‘Vicki, that’s very kind of you, but four?’

‘Yep, it was buy one get one free.’

‘Hmm.’ Leighton looked unconvinced, but he accepted a pastry gracefully and sipped his coffee. The girl seemed calmer than he had seen her at any time, but he was unsure of what was really going on behind her frequent smiles. If, as he suspected, she was desperately latching on to the unlikely disappearance of her friend, it was probably because something was missing elsewhere in her life. God only knew, following the loss of his daughter, Leighton had clung on to enough things himself.

‘So,’ he said softly, ‘about today?’

‘What about it?’ Vicki tore off a fluffy piece of croissant and popped it in her mouth.

‘Well, how are you feeling?’

Vicki looked to the distance for a moment, then turned back to meet Leighton’s gaze.

‘Excited, or something close it, I suppose.’ She exhaled. ‘Though, I don’t know if excited the right word for this experience.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, either way, I’ll get closer to knowing the truth - we find some sign of a break in, and so have something to go to the police with, or we find Laurie hiding in her hometown, just trying to avoid her unstable old college buddy.’

Leighton took a bite of his pastry, washing it down with some coffee, and looking across at Vicki.

‘But, you really don’t expect to find her there, do you?’ Leighton sipped his coffee again, but held Vicki’s gaze.

‘No,’ Vicki said conclusively, and turned her coffee cup around absently. ‘I don’t.’

‘Though, you do accept it is possible,’ he said tentatively.

‘I guess so.’ Vicki shrugged.

‘You see, I think, in life, it’s better to assume the simplest explanation, until you are presented with evidence to the contrary.’

‘But, I have evidence to the contrary.’ It was Vicki’s turn to hold Leighton’s gaze.

‘You have what a court would consider circumstantial evidence.’

‘But, people have gone to jail based on less,’ Vicki responded, her tone more challenging.

‘That’s true.’ Leighton nodded. ‘But, most don’t.’

‘I showed you the phone records. Why would someone suddenly stop using their phone?’