“Huge place,” I said.

“You shop there?”

Twice. With Allison. Waiting as she tried on outfits at Ralph Lauren and Versace. “Five weeks and no one noticed the car?”

He said, “For all we know, it was stashed somewhere and moved. The Gaidelases’ rental contract was for two weeks and when they didn’t return it, the company started phoning the number on the form, got no answer. When the company tried to bill for late charges, they found out the Gaidelases’ credit card and cell phone had been canceled the day after they disappeared. Company kept tacking on fees at a usurious rate of interest. The bill compounded seriously and after thirty days, the debt got assigned to a collection agency. The agency found out the Gaidelases’ number in Ohio, got another disconnect. What’s it sound like to you?”

“A skip.”

“Ten points. Anyway, a lien got put on the Gaidelases’ assets, screwed up their credit rating. Private Sleuth Number Three pulled a credit check and back traced. The Palmers say no way the Gaidelases skipped, the two of them were hyped up about making it as actors, loved California.”

“Did the car get checked for evidence?”

He shook his head. “No reason to check a recovered rental. By now, no one knows where it is. Probably put up for auction and shipped to Mexico.”

“The Camarillo outlet’s miles up the coast from Malibu,” I said. “The Gaidelases could’ve gone hiking and followed up with a shopping trip- duds for auditions. Or they never got out of the hills.”

“Shopping’s unlikely, Alex. The last credit card purchase they made before the account was canceled was lunch at an Italian place in Pacific Palisades the day before. My vote’s for a nature walk turned nasty. Couple of tourists digging the view, never figuring on a predator.”

He pushed eggs around his plate. “Never liked nature. Think it’s worth pursuing?”

“Malibu and a possible acting school link say it needs to be.”

“Dr. Palmer said he’d ask his wife if she was willing to talk. Two minutes later, Dr. Susan Palmer’s secretary phones, says the sooner the better. Susan’s got a dental practice in Brentwood. I’m meeting her for coffee in forty minutes. Let me finish my breakfast. Am I expected to wash my own dishes?”

Dr. Susan Palmer was a thinner, plainer version of her sister. More subdued shade of blond in her short, layered hair, true-blue eyes, a frame that looked too meager for her wide face. She wore a ribbed white silk turtleneck, navy slacks, blue suede loafers with golden buckles. Worry lines framed the eyes and tugged at her mouth.

We were in a Mocha Merchant on San Vicente, in the heart of Brentwood. Sleek people ordered complex six-dollar lattes and pastries the size of an infant’s head. Reproductions of antique coffee grinders hung from cedar-paneled walls. Smooth jazz alternated with Peruvian flute on tape-loop. The scorched smell of overdone beans bittered the air.

Susan Palmer had ordered a “half-caf iced Sumatran Vanilla Blendinesse, part soy, part whole milk, make sure it’s whole, not low-fat.”

My request for a “medium coffee” had confused the kid behind the counter.

I scanned the menu board. “Brew of the day, extra-hot, Medio.”

Milo said, “The same.”

The kid looked as if he’d been cheated out of something.

We brought our drinks to the pine table Susan Palmer had selected at the front of the coffeehouse.

Milo said, “Thanks for meeting with us, Doctor.”

Palmer looked down at her iced drink and stirred. “I should thank you- finally someone’s interested.”

Her smile was abrupt and obligatory. Her hands looked strong. Scrubbed pink, the nails trimmed close and smooth. Dentist’s hands.

“Happy to listen, ma’am.”

“Lieutenant, I’ve come to accept that Cathy and Andy are dead. Maybe that sounds terrible, but after all this time, there’s no other logical explanation. I know about the credit card cancellation and the utilities back in Toledo, but you have to believe me: Cathy and Andy did not run away to start a new life. No way would they do that, it’s not in either of their characters.” She sighed. “Cathy would have no idea where to run.”

“Why’s that, Doctor?”

“My sister was the sweetest person. But unsophisticated.”

“Escape isn’t always sophisticated, Dr. Palmer.”

“Escape would be beyond Cathy. And Andy.” More stirring. The beige concoction foamed unpleasantly. “Let me give you some family background. Our parents are retired professors. Dad taught anatomy at the Medical College of Ohio and Mom taught English at the University of Toledo. My brother, Eric, is an M.D.-Ph.D. doing bioengineering research at Rockefeller U., and I’m a cosmetic orthodontist.”

Another sigh. “Cathy barely made it out of high school.”

“Not a student,” I said.

“Cathy had what I now realize were learning disabilities and with that came all the self-esteem issues you’d expect. Back then we just thought she was…not as sharp as the rest of us. We didn’t mistreat her, just the opposite, we coddled her. She and I had a great relationship, we never fought. She’s two years older but I always felt like the big sister. Everyone in the family was loving and kind but there was this…Cathy had to feel it. Way too much sympathy. When she announced her plans to learn to be a cosmetologist, our parents made such a big deal you’d think she’d gotten into Harvard.”

She tasted her drink, nudged the cup a few inches away. “Mom and Dad are not ebullient people. When my brother did get into Harvard, their reaction was low-key. Cathy had to know she was being patronized.”

Milo said, “She and her husband ran a business. In terms of her ability to plan- ”

Susan Palmer moved her head rapidly, more quiver than shake. “In any other family, Cathy would’ve been able to think of herself as successful. But in ours…the business came about after a long…how can I say this…Cathy got into difficulties. When she was younger.”

“Teenage difficulties?” said Milo.

“Cathy had an extended adolescence. Drugs, drinking, hanging with the wrong crowd. Eight years after high school she still lived at home and did nothing but sleep late and party. A couple of times, she ended up in the E.R. That’s why my parents were thrilled when she went to beauty school. That’s where she met Andy. Perfect match.”

“Andy wasn’t a student, either?” said Milo.

“Andy also struggled through high school,” said Susan Palmer. “He’s nice enough- nice to Cathy, that’s what’s important. They both got jobs as stylists at local salons. But their incomes never progressed much and after ten years, they were still living in a cruddy little apartment. So we set them up. Barry and I, my brother and his wife, Mom and Dad. We found an old commercial building, renovated it, bought beauty equipment. Officially it was a loan but no one’s ever discussed repayment.”

“Locks of Luck,” I said.

“Corny, no? That was Andy’s inspiration.”

“They make money?” said Milo.

“The last few years they were turning a small profit. Mom and Dad still helping out.”

“Mom and Dad are in Toledo?”

“Geographically in Toledo. Psychologically in Denial.”

“They think Cathy and Andy are alive.”

“I’m sure sometimes they even believe it,” said Susan Palmer. “Other times…let’s just say it’s been tough. Mom’s health has deteriorated and Dad’s aged terribly. If you could learn anything, you’d be helping some really nice people.”

Milo said, “Do you have any theories about what happened?”

“The only one that makes sense is that Cathy and Andy went hiking and met some psycho.” Susan Palmer shut and opened her eyes. “I can only imagine. I don’t want to imagine.”

“The morning they went hiking, did anything unusual occur?”