"Good." She moved toward the door. "That will probably help."

"I'll drive you," Joe said.

"That's not necessary."

He made a face. "At the moment I don't seem able to make any other contribution. I'm feeling the need to be needed."

PIXMORE WAS THIRTY minutes from north Phoenix and perched on the summit of a curving mountain road. The one-story building was all glass and stone and gleamed in the sunlight. Charlie Cather pulled into the parking lot right after Joe and Eve.

"I'm glad you think we can get something done with that photo." He shook his head. "I was disappointed. I thought I'd really zeroed in on something."

"You did," Eve said. "It still may be salvageable."

"That's what Spiro said." He nodded at the Toyota driving into the parking lot. "There's Grunard."

"What's he doing here?" Eve asked.

"He was with me at the hotel when Spiro called. He's been bugging the hell out of me." Joe made a face. "But he's not a bad guy."

"Spiro won't like it."

"I cleared it with him. He said give him an appetizer but not the main course. He leaves before they start working on the photo."

Mark was coming toward them, smiling.

"Don't look now, but he appears ready for dessert," Joe said dryly.

"CAN' T YOU GET me a negative?" The technician's name was Billy Sung. He was under twenty-five and definitely not optimistic. "I'm not a miracle worker, you know."

"No negative," Eve said. "Your boss says you're the best technician he has. I'm sure you won't have a problem."

"Don't give me a snow job. I'll have a hell of a problem. This print has multiple errors. One would be easy to correct, but not all of them. You need one of those digital imaging companies in L.A. or a university think tank to enhance those pixels. Pixmore doesn't have the equipment."

"No chance?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I have a college professor who has a government research grant, and his equipment is way beyond state of the art. He usually lets me use it."

"You're a student?"

"Yeah, I need a degree to get a job with one of those companies on the West Coast. I have to compete with all those whiz kids from UCLA and USC. Those companies are cutting edge. It's incredible what they do with digital computer and software equipment." He looked back at the photograph. "But I do damn well considering what I work with."

"I'm sure you do," Eve said. "Who is this professor and where's his lab?"

"Professor Dunkeil. Ralph Dunkeil. His lab's about five minutes from here on Blue Mountain Drive."

"Could I have it by tomorrow?"

He shook his head.

"Please, it's very important to me."

He looked at her face for a couple of seconds and then slowly nodded. "If you can clear it with Grisby. He's not going to like me putting everything on hold."

"Your boss has already okayed it," Charlie said. "He said that you're ours for the next thirty-six hours."

"That sounds like slave labor." He grimaced. "Though Grisby's pretty much of a slave driver himself. I had to threaten to quit last quarter to make him give me time off to take my finals."

"I'd be grateful if you'll try to hurry it," Eve said. "You'll call me?"

"I'll call you, Eve," Charlie said. "I'll go with Mr. Sung and help."

"I don't need your help." Sung gave Charlie a cool glance. "The government is too much into our business as it is. FBI, CIA, IRS. Now you come in here and try to pressure me."

"Hey, man, I'm only doing my job."

"Yeah, sure," Sung said as he sat down at the bench. "I've heard that before. It's always followed by the crack of the whip."

"Perhaps I could go with you instead." Mark Grunard smiled at Sung. "Do you have any objections to a little publicity? It might help you get that job in California."

Sung looked interested.

"No way," Charlie said firmly. "I told you that you couldn't stay, Grunard."

"But our friend doesn't like you as much as he does me."

Charlie jerked his thumb. "Out."

Grunard sighed. "Maybe I could come back after you've finished your work, Mr. Sung." He handed him a card. "Call me." He left the lab.

"The results are confidential, Mr. Sung," Charlie said.

"Yeah." Sung looked thoughtfully at the card before stuffing it in his pocket. "So were the atomic tests in Nevada that gave everybody cancer."

"Please call me as soon as possible, Mr. Sung," Eve said. "It means a great deal to me."

"I'll let you know."

"WHAT DO YOU think? Can he do it?" Joe asked as he and Eve got into the car.

"Maybe. He seems sharp." She leaned back in the seat. "And I think he likes a challenge. Though Charlie may have a tough time. Sung evidently hates government bureaucrats."

"Maybe you should introduce him to Sarah. So what do we do now?"