Bob meets us in the conference room, and we brief him on our findings.

“Shit,” he says, and rubs his face with a big meaty hand.

That about sums it up, I think to myself.

Agent Metz has returned from talking to the Fergusons. Their surveillance tape shows Mrs. Bradley walking by last evening, but nothing after that, which confirms what we suspected. She disappeared on her way home from her walk.

Corrine Alworth comes tearing into the station and bursts into the conference room, leaving the officer who was escorting her in her wake.

“Did you find anything?” she asks, her face taut with worry.

We run through everything we’ve got so far, not a reassuring list.

“What are you doing to find her?” Mrs. Alworth yells.

Bob comes through the door and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you come down to my office? We’ll talk.”

She looks at me, then Joe, but finally acquiesces.

CHAPTER 63 - Rita

CHAPTER 63

Rita

AFTER THE CHIEF RETURNS, HE CALLS EVERYONE TOGETHER AND runs through a strategy for finding Mrs. Bradley. Lauren and even Detective Schmitt are involved. They’ve been tasked with organizing the search, dividing the area around the gas station into quadrants and assigning teams.

Joe and I head out to question Mrs. Bradley’s friends. They might have been the last people to see her at the party yesterday, and four of them are murder suspects besides.

Mr. Ferris answers the door, looking bleary-eyed, dark hair disheveled.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smiles grimly at me and Joe.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions if you have a minute,” I say.

He looks back over his shoulder as if seeking permission from someone inside. He doesn’t saying anything, just opens the door wider and walks away. We follow him into the living room, where he flops on the couch.

“What can I do for you, Detectives? Or is it Agents?”

“Either’s fine,” Joe says, keeping his voice even despite Mr. Ferris’s obnoxious tone. “We need to know where you were yesterday.”

Mr. Ferris sits up and squeezes his eyes under his glasses. “Yesterday? Why?”

“Just run through it for us,” I say.

He blows out a breath. “Okay. I hung around the house all morning. Went to Kim Pearson’s birthday party in the afternoon.”

The house seems eerily quiet. “Where’s your wife?” I ask.

“She’s not here.” Mr. Ferris rubs his chin like he can’t quite figure out what happened to her. But then his eyes meet mine. “She’s visiting her parents on the Cape. The boys wanted to see their grandparents.”

“Huh. They go to the Pearsons’ party before they left?”

“No. They left Friday night.”

“You went alone?”

“Yes.” He looks worn out, and his voice and body language tell me there might be trouble between him and the Mrs.