‘No, ma’am, and as long as it’s far away from me, I don’t care to know. Now, I’ve answered your questions, so I have a few of my own. You mentioned a double homicide and kidnapped teenagers. Can I take that to mean you believe my—Alexandra—is somehow involved?’

It was Cord who fielded this answer. ‘We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves.’

On a whim, Alyssa raised another question. ‘Do you know anything about your ex-wife’s neighbors in Del Luna?’

‘No. Should I?’

‘I was just curious. What about Mack or Gabriel Kensington – either of those ring a bell?’

It was Cord’s turn to shoot a sideways glance in her direction, but she ignored him, not wanting to miss any telling looks on Mr. Greene’s face, but it didn’t matter because aside from crinkling his forehead as he rolled the names over in his mental Rolodex, it was clear the Kensington name meant nothing to him.

He confirmed her suspicion with a decided, ‘No again. Sorry.’

Tossing out her last real hope, Alyssa said, ‘I suppose it would be too much to hope you’ve got any photographs of Alexandra or your wife lying around.’

‘Burned the lot of them one night in a drunken pity party for myself.’

Discouraged, Alyssa pushed to her feet, retrieving a business card as she did. Handing it over, she said, ‘Mr. Greene, we appreciate you taking the time to speak with us. If there’s anything else you can think of, please don’t hesitate to call.’

Coming to his feet, Alexander ripped off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and scribbled something on it before handing it to Cord. ‘Here’s my number if you need to get ahold of me for any reason. I don’t relish ever coming face to face with my daughter again, mind you, but if there’s something I can help with, I’d like to do it.’ He turned his head away from them. ‘Maybe then I won’t feel such a burden of guilt for abandoning my wife.’

Staring at the back of Mr. Greene’s head gave Alyssa an idea. It was a long shot, perhaps, but worth it. ‘Do you mind if we take a strand of your hair for DNA purposes, just in case?’

Without hesitation, Alexander reached up and yanked out several strands of his beard. ‘Let me grab a sandwich bag for you,’ he said, disappearing into the kitchen and handing it over when he returned.

At the door, Alyssa thanked him again. Then partway down the steps, he stopped them with words that carried the weight of failure. ‘God help you, Detectives, if Alexandra had anything to do with these killings and kidnappings.’ And then he turned on his heel and headed back inside.