“Hallo. Force says you’re on the road, and I wanted to update you.” Her soft Irish brogue came through the line like a sound from home. Papers shuffled, and she continued. “I’ve done a deep dive on that fella Frank Spanek, and he owns several properties across the Northeast. I’m emailing you a list of properties as well as other police reports on him—most inconclusive. Several state agencies have looked at the guy.”

“Did you find connections to Albert Nelson?” Wolfe asked.

“Yes. They’re co-owners of properties and businesses. Just the two of them so far, but I’m looking for other associates or partners,” Brigid said.

Wolfe slowed down to drive around a sharp curve. “Thanks. I’ll get on it tomorrow night when we’re back in Cottage Grove. Dana says hi.”

“Aye, no problem. Speaking of Dana, what’s going—”

“Bye, Brigid. Thanks.” He disengaged the call before she could get too nosy. “Brigid says hi,” he told Dana.

“Turn left here,” Dana said, pointing at the entrance to a golf course in Dogcreek Village. “The country club is up the lane, and supposedly the bridesmaids have a suite to get ready. Hopefully, the gods have interfered, and the bridesmaids’ dresses were caught in a fire last night.”

“They can’t be that bad,” Wolfe said, allowing himself some amusement.

Dana shook her head. “You’ll just have to see for yourself, but believe me, it’s bad. Try not to wince, okay?”

“No problem.” The blonde would look pretty in anything. “Are you sure the gray suit we brought will be fine? I have a black one.” They’d gone through his wardrobe, and she’d appeared pleasantly surprised that he had not only two suits but dress shirts and a few ties.

She scoffed. “No. Sure, it’s at the country club, but we’re in the country, and you’ll see everything from jeans to maybe a full suit. That pinstriped gray suit with the lighter green shirt and darker tie are perfect. It’ll be casual, Wolfe. Trust me—you’ll see everything. My sisters and I even play wedding bingo at these type of things.”

“Wedding bingo?” He drove past a row of cars and up to the wood-sided building with heavy oak doors.

“Long story.” She pointed to the east. “Drive that way beyond the entrance to the second cabana. That’s where Mom said I should go to get ready.”

He followed her directions, noting possible sniper positions out of habit. He parked near a stone pathway that angled off a golf-cart path to a small bungalow surrounded by red flowers. “You think this is it?”

“Maybe?”

The door to the cabana opened, and three women ran out, all different versions of Dana.

Dana gave a happy squeal and opened the door, jumping out and colliding with another blonde and two curly-haired brunettes.