The pizza sat in a lump in Wolfe’s stomach, even though he’d eaten the veggie one with less cheese. “Stop staring at me,” he muttered to the dog while pulling his beer bottle closer to his opened laptop on the conference table in case room two.

Roscoe barked once, whined, and blinked several times.

Wolfe sat back. “Tell me you’re not batting your eyes at me.”

The dog’s eyes widened, making him look pretty freaking adorable. He panted, his tongue rolling out, his tail wagging across the torn tile. “Woof.”

Dana came into the room, followed closely by Serena. They seemed to be having some sort of mild disagreement about the original Star Trek versus The Next Generation, but he didn’t really care.

Serena returned to her half of the wide wall board, where she’d taped rows of Candy’s notes. “Hmm.” She took a page from the bottom and exchanged it for one at the top, seeming to forget there were other people in the room. Wolfe kind of liked that about her.

Dana drew the chair out next to him, and the tantalizing scent of orange blossoms tickled his nose. He had no idea if she used a lotion that smelled like that, or if it was just her, but for the rest of his short life, he’d think of her every time he saw an orange. “Are you ready?” she asked.

He started and then covered by sliding his yellow pad filled with notes toward her. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t meeting his gaze, and he didn’t much blame her.

He looked at the board in front of him, where he’d pasted pictures of Frank Spanek, Albert Nelson, Trentington, Candy Folks, Dana, and himself with lines between points of contact. He’d gotten the pictures of almost everyone from their police files.

She frowned. “Is that you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t have a picture, so I drew me.” It looked like a stick figure drawn by a drunk moron, but he’d placed a misshapen and rather chunky wolf next to it.

Her lips pressed together. “Is that a wolf?”

Of course it was a wolf. “Drawing isn’t my specialty,” he said, feeling oddly defensive. Yet when she gave in and smiled, a weight lifted off his chest. “I can try to draw you, if you’d like.”

“No. That’s okay.” She held up a hand. “Please don’t.”

Fair enough. He tuned out the mutterings and tape-ripping noises of Serena in the corner. “What did you find in Candy’s file?”

Dana exhaled and drew her notes out from under the file folder. “The police have been very diligent and have talked to pretty much everyone they could. They think her disappearance is associated with her current story, as do I. Their guys haven’t been able to decipher the code of her notes, either.” She looked pale.