T Is for Trespass

was a release, authorizing a prospective employer to verify her qualifications and employment history. “I understand and agree that any misstatement or omission of material facts will cause forfeiture on my part of all rights of employment.”
    “This should cover it. I’ll handle some of it by phone, but many interviews are better done in person, especially when it comes to character issues. Most past employers are reluctant to put anything derogatory in writing for fear of being sued. Face-to-face, they’re more likely to offer up the salient details. How far back do you want me to go?”
    “Honestly, a spot-check is fine—her degree, the last place she worked, and a couple of references. I hope you don’t think I’m being paranoid.”
    “Hey, I do this for a living. You don’t have to justify the job to me.”
    “Mostly, I want to know she’s not a killer on the lam,” she said, ruefully. “Even that’s not so bad if she can get along with him.”
    I refolded the application. “I’ll run a duplicate at the office in the morning and get this back to you.”
    “Thanks. I’m heading back down to Los Angeles at nine for a noon flight out. I’ll call you on Wednesday.”
    “It’s probably better if I call you when I have something to report.”
    I pulled a boilerplate contract from my top desk drawer and took a few minutes to fill in the blanks, detailing the nature and substance of our agreement. I jotted my home and office numbers at the top of the page. Once we’d both signed, she took out her wallet and gave me a business card and five hundred bucks in cash. “Will that suffice?”
    “It’s fine. I’ll attach an itemized account when I send you my report,” I said. “Does she know about this?”
    “No, and let’s keep it between the two of us. I don’t want her to think I don’t trust her, especially after I made such a point of hiring her on the spot. It’s fine if you want to tell Henry.”
    “I’ll be ever so discreet.”

    I’d mapped out a visit to the City College campus where Lisa Ray’s accident had occurred. Time to scout the area and see if I could run the missing witness to ground. It was close to 3:15 by the time I reached the Castle off-ramp and turned right onto Palisade Drive, which angled up the hill. The day was gloomy, the sky overcast in a way that made me think of rain, but California weather can be deceptive. In the East, dense gray clouds would signal precipitation, but here we’re subject to a marine layer that doesn’t mean much of anything.
    Santa Teresa City College sits on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, one of 107 colleges in the California system of community colleges. The grounds are spread out over considerable acreage, east campus and west campus divided by a street called High Ridge Road, which forms a gentle downhill run to Cabana Boulevard and the beach. Driving by, I could see parking lots and various campus buildings.
    There weren’t any retail establishments in the immediate vicinity, but a mile to the west, at the intersection of Palisade and Capillo, there was a string of storefront businesses: a café, a shoe-repair shop, a market, a card shop, and a drugstore that serviced the neighborhood. Closer to campus there was a gas station and a large chain supermarket that shared a parking lot with two fast-food restaurants. The old guy might live near the college or he might have had business in the area. From Lisa’s account, it wasn’t clear whether he was on foot or on his way to or from his car. There was also a possibility he was on the faculty or staff of the college itself. At some point, I’d have to start knocking on doors, fanning out from the site of the accident.
    I passed the campus, circled back, and finally pulled in at the curb across from the entrance where Lisa Ray’s car had been stopped in preparation for her left-hand turn. There was a time when a private investigator might have done much of the digging in a lawsuit of this type. I’d once known a gumshoe whose specialty was making scale diagrams of accidents, taking measurements of street widths and reference points relevant to a collision. He’d also take photographs of tire tracks, angles of visibility, skid marks, and any other physical evidence left at the scene. Now this data is assembled by the accident-reconstruction experts, whose calculations, formulas, and computer models eliminate most of the speculation. If the lawsuit reached court, the