“Alan’s a good guy, just a little wound up about things.”

“I’d be surprised if he weren’t.”

“If you need me, just call my cell,” she said. “I’ll be at Dad’s house. We’re going to go through some of his things, but it won’t be a problem if you’d like to talk.”

Harp put his arm around her back. “We’ll call only if necessary.”

She paused, then smiled. “I can’t thank you both enough. Alan’s always been a good client, but honestly, he’s not the reason I want to do this. It’s Emily. Someday, when she’s older, she’ll want to know what happened. I’d like Alan to be able to tell her.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Logan said.

Driving south, Logan listened absently to a ball game on the radio, the announcers’ voices helping him focus on something other than how the hell he was going to help Alan Lindley. At some point, he heard paper rustling, and looked over to see Harp reading the copy of Lost Horizon.

“You want me to turn the radio down?” he asked.

There was a delay of several seconds before his father glanced up. “What?”

Logan pointed at the volume control. “Is this too loud for you?”

Harp shifted his gaze to the dash as if he’d just noticed the radio was on. “No, it’s fine,” he said, returning to his book.

Logan lowered the volume anyway, but if his father noticed, Harp made no comment.

“That’s not going to make you sick, is it?” Logan asked a few minutes later.

Another delay before another “What?”

“Reading in the car. It’s not going to make you sick?”

“No.” Harp’s tone made it clear he thought that was a stupid idea.

Another few minutes passed. “Dad. What was the envelope Len left?”

Harp kept his eyes on the book. “Just something your uncle and I talked about once.”

Logan could tell it was a lot more than nothing, but he had no idea what it could be. The envelope had said MANILA. As far as Logan knew, Harp had never been to the Philippines, and if it was the name of someone his father knew, it wasn’t anyone Logan had ever met.