The sky streaked red and purple as the convertible sped down the highway toward the coast. Della Street let herself relax and leaned her head back to look up into the darkening blue overhead. In a few minutes they'd be at the hotel, and just a little while after that Perry would be there too. Her stomach fluttered. They'd be there all night.

"Did Drake ever tell you," Parker asked, "Why he hired me?"

Della smiled at the young man's arrogance. "No," she said. "He must not have got around to it."

Parker's left arm stretched across the top of the steering wheel. He brushed hair out of his eyes with his right hand then extended that arm over the back of Della's seat. She saw in him a younger Paul, confident and attractive, yet lacking the maturity that older detective possessed. She thought about it, how lucky she was not only to have Perry, but also Paul as well. They made her feel as though nothing could ever hurt her. She heard the caller's voice in her head. Maybe Perry would already be at the hotel when they arrived.

"Well," he said. "A few months ago I was at the Flamingo one evening, just there to meet people, you know. Drake comes up and sits down at my table – of course I didn't know who he was at the time. He explains to me that he's a detective and needs to get some information out of a girl a few tables away. He wants me to go up to her and act like a cad so he can come over and rescue her. She appreciates him, lets him buy her a drink, and then he can get her talking. Smooth trick, I thought. Why not? I mean, Miss Street, it's not like I haven't made an idiot out of myself in front of one of you California girls before."

She smiled at him. "You look like you do fine to me, Country Boy."

"Anyway," he said, turning his head to hide a blush, "I go over to her and give her a cheap pick-up line. I put my arm around her, nothing bad, you know, just trying to be annoying. She rolls her eyes and I see Drake strolling up to the table. He flashes me a dirty look, then says to the girl, 'He bothering you, Miss?' Well, I expect her to give me the old heave ho, but I didn't want it to look fake. So I get out of my chair to face Drake. The girl grabs my arm and pulls me back down. She looks up at Drake and says, 'We're having a good time, Pops. And I'll have you know that I don't need a father watching over me.'"

Della threw back her head and laughed. "Poor Paul," she said. "I can just see his face now. What'd you do then?"

"I knew I was in over my head," he said. "But I saw a good opportunity. So I asked her if I could buy her a drink. When I went to the bar I found Drake and offered to help out. He didn't want to let me at first. You could tell his ego was bruised. But he needed the scoop and told me what he wanted out of her. A few martinis later I had it, and he offered me a job on the spot. Been working with him since."

Della nodded and smelled the salt in the air. She could almost hear the ocean, and knew they weren't far now. The first star appeared over the horizon, and she wished that Perry would be at the hotel when they got there. He'd send Parker back to the city, and then the two of them, alone, would let the last twenty-four hours slip away to the dark ocean. She closed her eyes for a few seconds.

"So how long you been working for Mason?" Parker asked.

"It makes me feel old to think about," she smiled, staring at the road ahead of her. "Over ten years now. But I wouldn't consider doing anything else."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, steering the car around a curve. "Being a detective's definitely for me."

"What did you do before? When you first came out to the coast?"

"Ah, man," he said. "I've done a lot of things. I wanted to get into the movies, but didn't quite make it. I had a few jobs, but nothing that amounted to anything."

"Why?" Della asked.

"I wished someone would have told me before I left," he said, "But I can't act to save my life."

"You said you had a few jobs, Allan. You're selling yourself short."

He smirked and rubbed his chin. "I do have one talent that they found useful."

The ocean was just visible in the impeding darkness. Della looked out onto the water. She'd appreciated Parker's interest, and how he'd kept her from worrying by telling stories about Drake and life on his parents' Kansas farm. A sweet boy, she thought, watching him shift gears. She waited for him to finish his story. When he said nothing more she asked, "And what talent is that?"

"Voices," he said, as though no lapse in the conversation had occurred.

"Voices?" she said, "Like what?"

"I don't know," he said, "Cartoons, puppets, things like that."

"Say something," she said, laughing. "I bet you're really good."

His blue eyes turned to her. Della's blood stopped as the voice she'd heard that morning on the phone reached her ears. "My dear Miss Street," he whispered, smiling at her fear. "Didn't you know I'm going to kill you?"