“Neither, but feel free to check.”

“I want your phone.”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out the burner. “I only have this one with me, and you’re the rightful owner.”

She took it. “I’m sure you’re angry. I asked a lot.”

I looked across the street. “I’m going to meet you at Pizza Pleasures. Nobody will hear us over the country music they’re so fond of there. You walk and I’ll park your car in front.” I held out my hand for the keys.

She almost smiled. “You don’t trust me?”

“That’s going to be the topic of conversation.” I watched her silently debate, but at last she dug in the canvas purse that was slung across her body and handed them to me.

“Meet you there.” I walked around to get in, and she started across the lot.

By the time I showed up at the restaurant with Wendy’s keys in my pocket, she was in the booth where I most liked to sit, coat and hat gone, short red bob, cut much like Mom’s, fluffed around her face. Weeks on the run had taught her to sit with her back to the wall. My usual server was bent over the table, and she and Wendy were chatting like old friends. When she saw me, the server smiled.

“Mrs. Miller tells me you’re her cousin. I hope you can cheer her up. She’s been through so much.” I watched as she smiled sympathetically at Wendy before she strode away.

I slid into the booth. “Mrs. Miller? I must be the last to know. Exactly what have you done with the Mr.?”

“Maybe Frank’s death in Afghanistan didn’t mean that much to you, Ryan, but it meant everything to me. He was the love of my life. I’m still trying to cope.”

I had to admire how expertly she’d become the widow of a man who had never existed. I was sure the story had ingratiated her with everybody she’d met here. “I’m assuming Frank was your pretend husband.”

She held up her left hand, which was adorned with the gold wedding ring that had once been part of the set Bryce had bought for her. “Fifteen years. Everyone here has been so kind while I try to put my life back together.”

“Does Bryce know about Frank? That could be confusing.”

“How is Bryce? He sounds angry in his voice mails.”

“He’s busy with his job.”

“He would be. The job means everything to him. If he has his way he’ll die in that sub and command his next one in heaven. He’s fond of the girls, but he’s not home enough to know them well. Not that there’s much to know with children.”

“I’ve actually found quite a bit.”

“Really? Maybe you’ll have your own someday. If that heart of yours keeps ticking.”

I took a moment to absorb her blow. “At the moment I’m pretty busy with your children.”

“They’re okay?”

“They’re understandably confused. Both their parents disappeared.” I searched her face to see if my answer meant anything.