“Still, it’s taking something of a chance. Just to be there, I mean.”

“What else?”

“Why would she pretend she’s somebody she’s not?” When I didn’t answer, Sophie went on. “And we aren’t just talking about the fake name. You found clothes you hadn’t expected, and they hint at a different identity she might use at the bar. Because it adds spice to a dull routine? Because it’s a chance to try on another kind of life? Because even getting caught could be interesting?”

“How so?”

“Adrenaline high. A chance to make up a great story.”

She was using “story” instead of “lie” to be tactful. “What else are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering how she managed to go out at night with two little girls at home.”

“My parents?”

“I’m assuming she wouldn’t tell your parents where she was really going. Would she use old friends as an excuse?”

My mother had said Wendy wasn’t socializing with old friends, so I knew that wasn’t it. “She might have asked Mom to give her a break so she could go out to dinner or a movie. And she’s perfectly capable of finding babysitters.”

“Have the girls mentioned a sitter?”

I had asked Sophie for help, but now I realized I didn’t want it. I knew where she was leading, and I wasn’t ready. I shook my head. “Can you think of any good reason she might show up at a biker bar?”

“An innocent pressure release? She has the girls, a tiring job, an absent husband.”

I had forgotten to tell her about Bryce’s phone call. I did. Quickly. She nodded. “Okay, something’s going on there.”

And how could I refute that? Instead I looked at my watch. “I’m going to I Spy to see Glenn before the next round of meetings, and I’d better leave in a minute. You’d be welcome to come. I’m going to ask him about tracing Wendy’s calls.”

“I’ll let you do that alone, but you’ll tell me what he says?”

I promised I would, refused an invitation to dinner with her daughters the next night because I planned to drive back right after my meeting with Sebastian, and told her I’d see her in an hour.

She held me at arm’s length. “When you really want to talk about this, let me know.”

I sighed. “She’s my sister.”

I drove to Boynton Beach and parked in front of Glenn’s store. I Spy wasn’t quite a hole-in-the-wall, but neither was it easy to find from the street. The windows were darkly tinted, the signage was subtle. He didn’t like walk-ins. Most of his customers found him on the internet and had good reasons to shop there.

Glenn was a licensed private investigator, and he had an office in the back of the store. One time I’d arrived while he was explaining how a young woman could discover what her husband was really doing every time he claimed to be checking on his mother. She was suspicious because her mother-in-law had accused her of keeping him from visiting. I didn’t have a lot of hope for that marriage.