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I glanced at the photograph on his desk, recognizing her belatedly "The prom queen?"

"How’d you know about that?"

"I saw some pictures of her in the yearbook Would you ask her if she could help?"

"I doubt if she knows anything, but I could ive ht suggest someone ould"

"I wouldn’t want anything said about…"

"I understand," I said

I gave him my card with a little note on the back, with my telephone nu faintly opti about the idea of grown irl that seeliiven me of the past made me feel like a voyeur

11

At two o’clock I slipped up the outside stairs at theclothes I hadn’t had lunch, but I was feeling supercharged, too wired to eat After the hysteria at the courthouse, I’d spent hours in close contact with other huitated state I pulled on ain, roohtly chilly, with a haze in the air The sea blended into the sky at the horizon with no line of demarcation visible between Southern California seasons are someti to people who’ve grown up in the Midwest and the East What’s true, though, is that every day is a season in itself The sea is changeable The air is transforisters delicate alterations in color so that gradually the saturated green of winter bleaches out to the straw shades of surass, so quick to burn Trees explode with color, fiery reds and flaolds that could rival autumn anywhere, and the charred branches that remain afterward are as bare and black as winter trees in the East, slow to recover, slow to bud again

I jogged along the ay that bordered the beach There was a sprinkling of tourists Two kids about eight were dodging the waves, their shrieks as raucous as the birds that wheeled overhead The tide was al surf froie board slid expertly along the water’s edge Ahead, I could see the zigzagging coastline, banded with asphalt where the road followed the contours of the shore At the road’s end was the Port San Luis Harbor District, a fuel facility and launching area that serviced the local boats

I reached the frontage road and angled left, jogging along the causeway that spanned the slough Up on the hill tohotel with its neatly trimled back along the fairways of the hotel’s golf course The distance was deceptive and it took me thirty minutes to reach the cul-de-sac at the end of the road where the boats were launched I slowed to a walk, catchingdown the sides of my face I’ve been in better shape in round I’d lost I did the turnaround, watching with interest as three men lowered a pleasure craft into the water fro trawler in drydock, its exposed hull tapering to a rudder as narrow as the blade of an ice skate I found a spigot near a corrugateddeeply before I headed back,as I increased my pace By the tiain, it was nearly four and the February sun was casting deep shadows along the side of the hill

I showered and dressed, pulling on jeans, tennis shoes, and a clean turtleneck, ready to face the world

The Floral Beach telephone directory was about the size of a coht on advertising space There was nothing to do in Floral Beach and what there was, everybody knew about I looked up Shana Timberlake and made a note of her address on Kelley, which, by ht around the corner Onwas still

I left my car in the slot and walked the two blocks Jean’s mother lived in what looked like a converted 1950s es with a parking space in front of each Next door, the Floral Beach Fire Departe painted pale blue with dark blue triot back to Santa Teresa, it would seem like New York City coreen Plymouth parked beside unit number one I peered in theon the driver’s side The keys had been left in the ignition, a big -for Ti, these folk Auto theft must not be the crime of choice in Floral Beach Shana Timberlake’s tiny front porch was croith coffee cans planted with herbs, each neatly marked with a Popsicle stick labeled with black ink: thyallon to the front door were opened a crack, but the curtains were drawn I knocked