I exhale. “I am only asking to better understand the situation.”

She shifts in her seat. “Sorry. Sophia was quiet and reserved. But well-mannered. She shook hands with any adult who offered. They had this fancy reception at the Ritz Carlton after the funeral. Waiters passed around tea food, you know, small sandwiches and fruit punch. I remember thinking that she must have wanted to be anywhere but in that room. All these adults she didn’t know kept coming up and offering condolences. Portraits of Cassandra were on easels everywhere you looked.”

“Who planned the service?”

“I’m not sure. They cremated Cassandra, so in lieu of a graveside service, they did a luncheon reception. I remember feeling badly for both Jack and Sophia. They were both in so much pain, and yet they were shaking hands with all these businessmen and acquaintances.”

“Did Jack and Sophia seem close?”

“Not at the funeral. But I think they were each in their own world of hurt. From what Cassandra said, even when they were married, Jack traveled frequently. Business trips.” She runs her index fingernail along her upper lip. “At the reception, I had time to speak with Jack. In private. A little room away from all the people paying respects. And he told me he hadn’t been involved in Sophia’s life. But he would be. He promised he would be there for her. He choked up. I believed him.”

“So, you don’t think he stepped up? He stayed away, and that’s why he’s now suspecting she ran away?”

“I don’t have enough information. Is it possible that she and her father didn’t grow well together? Did he not live up to his word, and he remained distant? Continued to travel and be more absent than present? Of course. Is it also possible something nefarious happened? Yes. I don’t have any data. With luck, when we go through the house, we will find evidence that leads us to her.”

Dr. Rolfe might be young and inexperienced, but her instincts are good. Her thought process is logical. The reason I agreed to fly down is that I needed to investigate. We can hypothesize all day, but we need evidence.

“And what kind of evidence will you be looking for?” I ask as a test. She asked about my flight experience earlier. Digging into her knowledge is fair.

“Ideally, we’ll find evidence of a struggle. A crime scene.”

“You want a crime scene?” Her eagerness reminds me of a young recruit eager for battle with no realistic concept of the devastation war delivers.

“The crime scene is a silent witness. Without one, we’re short important information.” To me, that statement sounds like the voice of a professor. And it doesn’t apply much to someone willingly running away.

“Got it.” In my experience, we don’t worry too much about the crime scene. On missions, we leave cleanup to others. “What else?”

“All of her electronics. I’d like to piece together her online life for the last year. See if there are any clear behavioral changes.”