“Rear Window,” I said. “James Stewart thinks he sees a murder outside his window. He's laid up with a broken leg at the time.” I looked over at Sampson. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable with me asking the questions this time. He nodded that it was okay.

“What happened after the Fayetteville detectives talked to Ronald? Did they come back? Did any other policemen come? Anyone from Fort Bragg? Mrs. Hodge, why wasn't Ronald's testimony part of the trial?”

She shook her head. “Same questions I had my ex-husband and I both. A captain from CID did come a few days later. Captain Jacobs. He talked to Ronald some. That was the end of it, though. No one ever came about any trial.”

After we finished our iced teas, we decided to call it a night. It was past eight and we thought we'd made some progress. Back at the Holiday Inn Bordeaux, I called Nana and the kids. Everything was fine and dandy on the home front. They had taken up the cry that I was on' Daddy last case', and they liked the sound of that. Maybe I did, too. Sampson and I had dinner and a couple of beers at Bowties inside the hotel, then we turned in for the night.

I tried Jamilla in California. It was around seven her time, so I called her work number first.

“Inspector Hughes,”she answered curtly. “Homicide.”

“I want to report a missing person,” I said.

“Hey, Alex,” she said. I could feel her smile over the phone. “You caught me at work again. Busted. You're the missing person. Where are you? You don't write, you don't call. Not even a crummy e-mail in the last few days.”

I apologized, then I told Jam about Sergeant Cooper and what had happened so far. I described what Ronald Hodge had seen from his bedroom window. Then I broached the subject that had prompted my call. “I miss you, Jam. I'd like to see you,” I said. “Any place, any time. Why don't you come East for a change? Or I could go out there if you'd rather. You tell me.”