“You won’t like the answer.”

I knew where Sophie was going, and she went.

“People sometimes use aliases if they’re shacking up with somebody they shouldn’t be, which, in your sister’s case, would be anybody she wasn’t married to.”

That was a possibility, although I didn’t like it. “She would still have to give the clerk a credit card to secure a room.”

“Unless whoever she was with presented his.”

“There are a lot of maybes there.”

“So here’s another. Maybe that was what happened. But if not? It’s not that hard to get a credit card under an alias. She could simply ask her regular credit card company to add whatever name she liked to her account for a second or third card. People do it all the time for family members. And there are always reloadable or single-use credit cards.”

“That would take a ridiculous amount of preplanning.”

“It sure would.”

My head was swimming. “How about a picture ID? Doesn’t a hotel ask for one?”

“Depends, but didn’t you have a fake ID in college so you could visit your local bar or buy a six-pack? You know how easy they are to come by.”

I couldn’t imagine my sister slinking through dark alleys to pay a forger to create an ID for her. It was so not Wendy. But, of course, trying to escape the law wasn’t exactly Wendy, either.

I thought out loud. “It’s also possible Wendy was never at the Golden Aspen, and we have the wrong murder.”

The burner phone in my pocket began to vibrate just a split second before it rang.

I was stunned by my sister’s timing. “We can test our theory. Wendy’s calling.” I dug out the phone and held it up.

“Want me to leave?”

For the first time I realized the burner had a speaker button. Wasn’t it just like my sister to purchase the best, even for a throwaway? I made a split-second decision. “You stay and listen. Just don’t make any noise, okay?”

Sophie put her finger to her lips.

I cleared my throat and answered. “Wendy?”

“Who else?” She sounded tired, but the words were meant to be a joke.

“You’re okay?”

“As okay as anybody can be in hiding.”

I glanced at Sophie, who was leaning forward to hear better, and I got right down to business. “Listen, I did what you asked. I looked up Milton Kerns. But I don’t even know if I’m spelling his name correctly.”

“I don’t know how it’s spelled. The guy’s a stranger.”

I knew better than to probe that further, since she might hang up any minute. “I haven’t found anything, and that’s mostly because you’re dancing around the truth. You have to clue me in if I’m really going to help. You know I want to. I have some experience. Please tell me everything you can, so I can get down to work.”

She was silent so long I wondered if she was going to hang up. But finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Ryan Rosie. I really hoped I’d be home by now, and this whole thing could just be a funny story to tell someday. But apparently, that’s not to be.”