"Kinsey Millhone," I said, introducing myself. We shook hands. "I'm a neighbor from down that way." My gesture was vague but conveyed the general direction.

Ray's gaze moved past me into the apartment. "Any idea when Bucky's due back?"

"Around one, he said."

"Are you looking to rent?"

"Oh heavens, no. Are you?"

"Well, I hope to," he said. "If I can talk Bucky into it. I put down a deposit, but he's dragging his feet on the rental agreement. I don't know what the problem is, but I'm worried he'll rent it out from under me. For a minute, when I saw all those boxes, I thought you were moving in." The guy had a southern accent I couldn't quite place. Maybe Texas or Arkansas.

"I think Bucky's trying to get the place cleared. Were you the one who offered to haul all the stuff out for a break in the rent?"

"Well, yeah, and I thought he was going to take me up on it, but now that his dad's in town, the two keep coming up with new schemes. First, Bucky and his wife decided they'd take this place and rent out the house instead. Then his dad said he wanted it for the times he comes out to visit. I don't mean to be pushy, but I was hoping to move in sometime this week. I've been staying in a hotel… nothing fancy, but it adds up."

"I wish I could help, but you'll have to take it up with him."

"Oh, I know it's not your problem. I was just trying to explain. Maybe I'll stop by again when he gets back. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Not at all. Come on in, if you like. I'm just going through some boxes," I said. I moved back to my seat. I picked up a book and riffled through the pages.

Ray Rawson entered the room with all the caution of a cat. I pegged him at five ten, probably 180 pounds, with a hefty chest and biceps for a guy his age. On one arm he sported a tattoo that said "Maria"; on the other, a dragon on its hind legs with its tongue sticking out. He looked around with interest, taking in the arrangement of the furniture. "Good to see it again. Not as big as I remember. The mind plays tricks, doesn't it? I pictured… I don't know what… more wall space or something." He leaned against the bedstead and watched me work. "You looking for something?"

"More or less. Bucky's hoping to turn up some information about Johnny's military service. I'm the search-and-seizure team. Were you in the Air Force with him, by any chance?"

"Nope. We met on the job. We both worked in the shipyards in the old days – Jeffersonville Boat Works outside of Louisville, Kentucky. This was way back, just after the war started. We were building LST landing craft. I was twenty. He was ten years older and like a dad in some ways. Those were boom times. During the Depression – back in 1932 – most guys weren't even pulling in a grand a year. Steelworkers made half that, less than waitresses. By the time I started working things were really looking up. Of course, everything's relative, so what did we know? Johnny did all kinds of things. He was a smart guy and taught me a lot. Can I lend you a hand?"

I shook my head. "I'm almost done," I said. "I hope you don't mind if I keep at it. I'd like to finish before I head out." I picked up the next book, leafing through the pages before I stacked it with the others. If Johnny was opposed to banks, he might have taken to hiding money between the pages.

"Any luck?"

"Nope," I said. "I'm about to tell Bucky to forget it. All he needs to know is his granddad's fighter unit. I'm a private investigator. This is my pro bono work, and it doesn't feel that productive, to tell you the truth. How well did you know Johnny?"

"Well enough, I guess. We kept in touch… maybe once or twice a year. I knew he had family out here, but I never met them until now."

I had a rhythm going. Pick a book up by the spine, flip the pages, set it down. Pick a book up by the spine, flip, set. I pulled the last book from the box. "I've been trying to place your accent. You mentioned Kentucky. Is that where you're from?" I stood up, tucking my fists in the small of my back to get the kinks out. I bent down and started returning books to the box.

Ray hunkered nearby and began to help. "That's right. I'm from Louisville originally, though I haven't been back for years. I've been living in Ashland, but Johnny always said if I came out to California I should look him up. What the heck. I had some time, so I hit the road. I knew the address and he told me he was living in the garage apartment out back, so I came up here first. When I didn't get an answer, I went over and knocked on Bucky's door. I had no idea Johnny'd passed on."