«That's probably the most naive thing you've ever said, Peter. You didn't really know him. You said so yourself. But you can't talk to his cop again. Why don't we do a little research? Google him. Get to know him a bit. Let's see if we can figure out why he came here, if he was looking for something.» Sebastian turned and put a hand against Peter's face. «Looking for something besides you, I mean.»

They walked back up to the hotel, and Peter sat behind the computer and typed Jacob's name into Google Images. They scrolled down through thumbnails of physicists and philosophy professors and then there was Jacob, looking very young and handsome in a tux, standing next to his cello and smiling shyly at the camera. He had performed at a benefit concert for the Monterey County Rape Crisis Center last Christmas. Sebastian leaned forward and studied the screen. «He looks Athabascan, doesn't he?»

«Does he? I didn't think so. Ow!» Sebastian had twisted his ear lobe, hard. «What's that for?» «Jesus, Peter! He looks like me, twenty years ago!»

«No, he doesn't, Sebastian! He doesn't look anything like you! Besides, you've never worn a tux.» Peter shook his head. «You are so egocentric. You think I can't fall in love with anyone but you! I can fall in love with anybody I want!»

Sebastian was breathing hard through his nose, black eyes hooded. «You are too much, Peter. Okay, let's keep looking.»

In the news section, they found an article in the San Francisco Chronicle about the benefit concert, and the article quoted Mary Struthers, Executive Director of the Monterey

Rape Crisis Center. «Jacob Klein has been instrumental in our current fundraising campaign, sponsored by the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. But more importantly, he has been a volunteer at the Center for over five years. His compassion for women and their families has made him one of our most respected counselors.»

Sebastian sat back, chewing on his bottom lip. «Peter, he volunteered at a rape crisis center?» «That sounds like him, Sebastian. He seemed to be a very giving –« «No, Peter, I mean, why a rape crisis center? Why there, exactly?» Peter thought about this. «I don't know. Seems like most people…»

«Most people would have had some personal experience with the place first. They wouldn't have drawn it out of a hat. Five years a volunteer, but what happened to bring him there in the first place?»

Peter was back on the keyboard, had the phone number of the Center and a little map from Yahoo, if he wanted to drive there. He picked up the phone. «The Internet is getting scary, Sebastian.»

When he got through to Mary Struthers' office, he found himself talking to a very suspicious woman. «I'm afraid I can't give you any information about our volunteers.»

«Ma'am. My name is Peter Moon. I'm the proprietor of the Heartbreak Hotel, in Gustavus, Alaska. Jacob Klein was staying at this hotel on his way to Montreal. He was murdered here two days ago.»

The woman's shocked gasp of breath told him she had not heard the news. «Where did you say you were calling from?» «Gustavus, Alaska.» «Give me your phone number, Peter Moon. I'll call you back.»

Ten minutes, and Sebastian was driving him crazy, studying the picture of Jacob. «Maybe Athabascan father, if his mother wasn't Native.»

«What were you doing twenty-six years ago? Ever have a fling with a girl from California?»

Sebastian waved a middle finger in his direction, and Peter turned away from him when the phone rang again. «Peter? This is Mary Struthers calling you back. I just got off the phone with the local police there in Gustavus. I can't even begin to tell you…» Her breath caught in her throat again. «I can't begin to tell you. I knew him quite well, we all did, and I am only consenting to speak with you, and to the police, about his confidential work here because the Community Resource Officer there in town told me that they have very few clues about his murderer, and because she told me you were his friend. He began volunteering here. I think he was nineteen or twenty.» «Why? I mean, what in particular…»

«That was the year his sister was raped. Miriam. She was fifteen, hurt badly. Very shy child. But she was brave, and went to the police. Jacob went with her. I think their mother had died the year before, so it was just the two of them. Anyway, they arrested the man, but then the police let him out on bail and he disappeared. Miriam couldn't take it, not knowing where he was. She was afraid he was coming after her again. She had been so brave up until then, with Jacob by her side every minute, but when the man disappeared, she became more and more fearful, reclusive and withdrawn. She hung herself while he was at class at the Conservatory. He always said he didn't feel guilty about leaving her alone that day, but I wondered. He had an audition he couldn't miss. The Conservatory is extremely competitive, and Jacob had won a full scholarship. So he couldn't really stop attending. Anyway, the point I wanted to make was that the man was never caught. The man who raped Miriam has never been caught.» * * * * *

Susan brought some news at lunch. «They didn't find anything that could be tested for DNA.» Peter turned from the buffet. «What does that mean, Susan?»

«Nothing under his fingernails. He didn't fight. The knot on the rope was in the back. It's good in one way, I guess. He was taken by surprise, so he didn't…» Her voice trailed off. «We're going to have to figure out what happened pretty quick. The state cops are gonna be here tonight.» «Well, they certainly raced to the scene, didn't they?»

Susan sniffed. The remote villages had learned to do without help from the cities, help that was slow in coming and grudgingly given. «I believe what happened to Jacob had something to do with the hotel,» Susan said. She raised a hand to stop him when Peter began to protest. «Just listen. He came into the airport. He came out here. He stayed here, other than a few short hikes around the place. And he was killed less than forty-eight hours after he got here.»

«He came in on the plane with us,» Jesse said. «He seemed okay, not really chatty, kind of down, but okay. We both figured…» He glanced at Phillip. «We figured that he'd just broken up with someone.» «Did he act like he recognized anyone? The pilot?»

Jesse and Phillip thought about it, and then shook their heads. Susan started a list. «Okay, we need to check the pilot on your flight. Any other passengers?» «No, just the three of us.» «At the airport?»

«The van was waiting for us. That man, the driver, he put all the bags in the back except the cello. Jacob told him he wanted to hold it, and he carried it between his knees on the drive out here.» Susan made another note.

«Nothing happened on the way?» They both shook their heads. «When you got to the hotel?»

«Peter came out the door to greet us. He was wearing those evergreen-colored corduroys and a turtleneck sweater the same color, and the sun was making his hair all shiny and gold, and when Jacob saw him, he said…» Jesse stopped, his face turning pink. «What?»

Jesse glanced at Sebastian with an apology on his face. «He said, 'Holy heart attack, Batman!'»

Sebastian looked up and met Peter's eyes, smiled a funny little smile. «That's what I think every time I see him, too.» Jesse and Phillip smiled in relief. «Then that driver…» «Nelson,» Susan said, reading from her book.

«Yeah. He carried our bags in and took them upstairs. Peter showed us to our rooms. Mike was already here, out on the sun porch, but it was just like, 'Hi, I'm Mike, Hi, I'm Jacob.' Nothing more than that. We met Casper at dinner, then Travis came on duty late. I know Travis talked to Jacob about being in Iraq, something about taking classes. I remember Jacob told him that he studied music. But Jacob, he couldn't hardly…» He stopped again. «I'm sorry, Peter. I don't mean to embarrass you or anything. But Jacob couldn't keep his eyes off you. I mean, he was like one of those 'love at first sight' guys, you know? It didn't surprise any of us when you two went upstairs, because you were just so…I don't know. Attracted to each other.»