“It’s been such a rough few years for her,” Grover continued. “She and Mitch separated, then her best friend embezzled money from her employer and left the country when the authorities caught on.”

Another embezzlement? What was with the people in Victoria’s life?

“She went to Mexico, according to the reports,” Grover continued. “Victoria defended her, said she must have had a good reason and not to judge her. I’d always wondered if they kept in touch, but I wouldn’t ask because that would make Victoria an accessory after the fact, or some such nonsense. But during the divorce she really needed a friend, and Denise was the only real girlfriend Victoria ever had.”

“Denise?”

“Denise Albright.” Grover pointed to the maid of honor in the picture. It was the same woman in the photo on Mitch’s desk, Max realized. “They met in college, roommates, inseparable. Closer than sisters. Denise named her daughter after Victoria.” He pointed to one of the two flower girls. “So sad all around. I was hoping when Denise heard the news about Victoria’s death that she would reach out, somehow. It would have been a small comfort to Judith, I think. Even a card.” He sighed. “Maybe she didn’t hear. Maybe she doesn’t even care. I don’t know. How about that coffee?”

Twenty minutes later Max was driving and she couldn’t get the name Denise Albright out of her head.

Where had she seen that name?

She thought seen not heard because she distinctly remembered reading the name somewhere.

Maybe she’d been apprehended. If she embezzled money, that was a white collar crime, and Ryan talked a lot about his cases, which she generally enjoyed. Maybe he’d sent her an article.

She frowned. She didn’t think that was it.

She couldn’t stand it. As soon as it was safe, she pulled over and did an Internet search on the name Denise Albright.

Her heart raced at the first headline.

Bones Uncovered After Labor Day Identified as Fugitive Denise Albright

Denise Albright and her family had been murdered three years ago, but their bodies were only recently discovered.

Just last night, Lucy was talking about her case—vaguely, like many cops did around Max. She had a three-year-old cold case of bones only recently discovered. They’d been identified, but she didn’t give Max the names.

Max had seen the headline that morning while having coffee in her hotel room. But she hadn’t taken time to read it because she was preparing for her interview with Stanley Grant.

Max skimmed three articles before she found one with enough detail that her blood heated with urgency and excitement.

The bones had been uncovered the week after Labor Day weekend. The gravesite had been found on a Friday.

Not only any Friday, but the same Friday that Victoria had been murdered.