Moe sped up to a near jog.

Aaron said, “Aerobics and chutney in the a.m. I'm always open to new experiences.”

The bespectacled woman who ran Café Moghul recognized Aaron the moment he pushed the door open. She flashed him a neon smile, brighter than her aqua-blue sari.

Moe thought: A whole different greeting from the first time. Aaron had walked in on a marsh-murder sitdown and the woman had reacted to a black face with instinctive anxiety. Despite Aaron's custom suit, the easygoing grin, the deliberately unthreatening posture.

All those strategies his brother used to put people at ease.

Moe had his feelings about Aaron and they made empathy a huge nuisance. But once in a while he let himself imagine what it would be like to be Aaron, always having to present yourself…

“Sir.” The woman gave a little flourish and bow. “Please, anywhere you like.”

That day, Aaron had eaten nothing, drunk half a glass of clove tea. But picking up everyone's tab and tipping big had bought him some social status.

As they settled at a corner table, the woman said, “Is the lieutenant coming as well?”

“No, ma'am,” said Moe.

She appeared to notice him for the first time. Turned back to Aaron: “He is okay?”

Moe said, “He's fine, ma'am.”

“I haven't seen him in a few days.”

The storefront café was Sturgis's secondary office. The woman viewed the Loo as a human guard dog, a role he'd earned by ejecting a few homeless whacks and just being big and mean looking.

Moe said, “I'll send him your best.”

“We have fresh lamb in a very nice curry.”

Aaron's hand slipped down toward his flat abdomen and Moe figured he'd give some excuse and order tea.

Aaron said, “Sure. And bring healthy vegetables for Detective Reed.”

While they waited for the food, Aaron checked his BlackBerry

Moe said, “People to do, things to see.”

Aaron clicked off. “The Peninsula 's where Rory Stoltz's mama works. You changed your mind because you don't want to make it easy for me.”

“Whatever you want to do on Caitlin, I can't stop you unless you cross the line. In terms of what I can give you, like I said there's nothing. And Martha Stoltz is a waste of time. I spoke to her this morning. She had nothing to say.”

“So you're actively working the case.”

“So they tell me.”

The food arrived. Heaps of lamb stew for both of them, bowls of every veg the kitchen could offer.

The bespectacled woman said, “Tell the lieutenant how good everything is.”

When she left, Aaron looked at the banquet and shook his head.

“Not up to it?” said Moe.

“A little early in the day, no?”

Moe began eating with simulated gusto. Undigested breakfast sat in his gut but damned if he'd wimp out. Maybe lamb was better than beef, cholesterol-wise. Another hour of lifting and a run would keep him virtuous. Tonight, after seeing Liz. If he went home.

Aaron said, “Tell me about Rory Stoltz.”

“I interviewed him four times, he's alibied for at least one hour after Caitlin left the Riptide. Stayed on to clean up. After that, he went home where Mommy claims he stayed.”

“Claims?”

“She's his mother.”

“You pick something up hinky about her, Moses?”

“You didn't hear me the first time? She's useless.”

Aaron's clean jawline rippled. He took a breath. “Mo-”

“Maybe I fucked up somewhere along the line, but if I did, Sturgis doesn't think so. I went over the murder book with him and he said nothing was missing. Same for Delaware.”

“You went to see Delaware because…”

“At Sturgis's suggestion.”

“Sturgis sees Caitlin as a psycho case?”

“Sturgis doesn't know what she is. No one does. Including Delaware. But a girl driving alone, late at night? There are all sorts of possibilities.”

“Bad guy on the road,” said Aaron. “Except her car hasn't been found.”

“So the psycho collects wheels as trophies. Or he dumped it somewhere.”

“Psycho garage,” said Aaron. “Here's an image for you: rows of vics’ vehicles, each one with a skeleton propped behind the wheel.”

“You've been Hollywooding too long.”

“Little brother, you are right about that. But maybe that'll work to my advantage.”

“Why?”

“Maitland Frostig said Riptide gets celebs.”

“I was there,” said Moe. “All I saw were juiceheads and old surfers.”

“Maybe you hit an off night. Stoltz still work there?”

“Don't know.”

“I'll find out when I talk to him. Unless that's a problem.”

“Talk to him all you want. Kid's not going to give up anything because if he does have something to hide, he's had fifteen months to live with it and get his story straight.”

“Nothing hinky about him,” said Aaron, “but still you wonder.”

Moe glared at him.

“What?”

“You're sounding like a shrink. Bouncing back what I say.”

“Bro-”

“I've got nothing on Stoltz except that he was the boyfriend.”

“Was,” said Aaron. “So you definitely see her as dead.”

“Hey,” said Moe, “maybe she's partying in Dubai, or whatever.”

“White slavery.” Aaron grinned. “Always loved that phrase. As opposed to normal slavery.”

The racial allusion surprised Moe. He said, “You don't see her as dead?”

“Yeah, I probably do. Except for what I said before, she might've wanted to get away from Daddy. She didn't even have her own computer, they shared. What college student doesn't have a laptop? So Maitland could be one of those controlling types. And girls do wanna have fu-uhn.”

“She was a virgin,” said Moe. “Supposedly.”

Aaron's brows arched. “Daddy told you that?”

“Martha Stoltz did.”

“How'd it come up?”

“She was talking about what a perfect couple Caitland and Rory were. All-American. Both virgins.”

“What was her point in telling you?”

Moe shrugged. “I'm just quoting.”

“It wasn't weird?” said Aaron. “Middle of an interview and she volunteers about their sex life?”

“Lack of sex life. I figured she wanted me to see Rory as a choirboy.”

“Because he isn't?”

“If he's got a secret life, it's stayed secret from me,” said Moe. “What're you gonna do, high-tech-bug his bedroom?”

Aaron smoothed his tie, tugged the big knot tighter. “They're both virgins… like Mama's in the backseat with them?”

“Hey,” said Moe, “I'm open to anything. You find out Rory's chapter president of the Ted Bundy Fan Club, I'll get interested. But I talked to him four times and he came across exactly what he claimed to be.”

“Which is?”

“Clean-cut Pepperdine student.”

“That's a Baptist school. We talking Holy Roller?”

“ Normal, clean-cut kid,” said Moe. “Seemed genuinely torn up about Caitlin. But not over-the-top emotional, like he was trying to prove something.”

“Virgins,” said Aaron. “Wonder if he's still that way fifteen months later. You planning a fifth chat?”

“The case is still open.”

Aaron drank water.

Moe said, “I don't want you stepping on my toes.”

“Last thing on my mind, bro.”

“But if I tell you to hold off, you're not going to listen.” Gas or acid or whatever was rising up his food tube. His belt cut like dental floss. From what, three pieces of lamb and some eggplant? What did they put in this stuff?

“Moses, can't we just put it aside?”

“Put what aside?”

“SOS. Same old shit.” Aaron laughed. “Remember when I told that idiot counselor he was just digging up SOS and he near about fell off his shrink chair?”

Moe stayed silent.

“You don't remember, bro?”

“Dr. Gibson,” said Moe. As if called upon to recite.

“Mr. Gibson,” said Aaron. “Had a master's.” He shook his head. “Working for the school system filing paper, at night he moonlights, pretends he's an analyst.”

“Didn't stop Mom from liking him.”

“Mom,” said Aaron. “She also liked that massage therapist with the bad breath and the huge mole on her chin and that Polish N.D. we all thought was an M.D.-Kussorsky, Master Naturopath. Guy's doling out little vials of water with invisible ingredients and Mom's telling us we have to take it for our allergies. Meanwhile, she takes in two cats.”