“He’s in Russia,” my dad says. “Trying to stop a second Cold War from happening. I think that takes priority.”

For a quick moment, I remember he’s not my biological father. I push the thought from my mind.

I tell Ingrid, “Ok, keep going.”

::::

“The Captain okayed this?” Billy asked from the passenger seat.

“Unofficially, yes. But if anyone finds out you’re working a case while suspended, he’ll deny it.”

“Ok, you can drop me off here.”

Ingrid turned to look at him. To make sure he was kidding.

He was.

Billy was so excited when she showed up on his doorstep that he nearly shed a tear. Ingrid spent the last half an hour filling him in on the case.

“So, which house are we headed to first?”

“Megan’s. She lives about an hour north of here. Then we’ll head up to Delaware and see if we can track down her brother.”

“And you couldn’t do this by yourself because?”

“Because you’re an idiot and people tell you things they won’t tell me.” Which was true, but it also had to do with Ingrid being an attractive woman. No matter how hard she tried to downplay it, sometimes when she interviewed women, Ingrid could feel they were threatened by her and would clam up. It was even worse with the men; they would boast and flirt and it was nearly impossible to get a straight answer out of them. Billy was harmless. Men and women opened up to him like no one she’d seen before.

“Touché,” he said with a big smile, his too-big teeth white and even.

“And I missed you.”

“Aww.”

Ingrid did miss him.

Billy was full Italian and his forearms were covered in thick black hair. Some of the women on the force thought he was sexy, and he’d made his way through most of them in his short two years in homicide. Ingrid wasn’t attracted to him at all and continually reminded him deodorant only cost $4. Regardless, she adored him, he was like the little brother she never had. Plus, the couple times Henry met him, the two got along amazingly.

Twenty minutes later, Ingrid parked in front of a condominium complex.

She called the number she had for Megan Klein.

Megan answered on the third ring.

Ingrid told her who she was and asked if she had time for a couple questions.

She did.

“Are you home?” Ingrid asked. Ingrid knew she was; a blue Nissan Altima that matched her plates was parked in the lot.

“I am.”

“Well, we’re right outside. We’ll be at your door in thirty seconds.”

Megan was standing in the doorway when Ingrid and Billy walked up the steps to her second story condo.

The three shook hands and introduced themselves.

“This is about Jennifer?” Megan asked.

“Yes.”

“But they found the guy who did it thirty years ago.”