Though there was a mailbox mounted under the numbers of the house, there was also an old-fashioned mail slot in the door. Very common with older homes, and the mail slot was no longer used. She first looked in the mailbox—there was mail. Today was Monday, and Marie hadn’t picked up her mail. Max looked through it—all junk mail, except for two postcards dated late last week with pictures of the Gulf, one addressed to Jason Richards, the other addressed to Kyle Richards, and signed Dad. Each card had the same message:

Great news! My boss invited us to sit in his box for Astros opening day. Mom can come, too, if she wants. Plenty of room.

To Jason he added:

Mom said you want to start baseball in the spring. I’ll be back for six whole weeks starting Thanksgiving morning and we’ll practice every day. Miss you.

To Kyle he added:

Mom said you got straight Excellent marks on your report card except for talking. Ha-ha. That’s great, kid!

Max put the cards and junk mail back. Definitely not a family torn apart after the divorce. Sounded like Marie talked to her ex regularly and he was involved in the kids’ lives. Why the divorce?

What did it matter? People had reasons for their decisions. She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

She was just curious.

Had the kids gone to school today? Had Marie gone to work? That might be something she could get if she was sneaky about it, or maybe Rogan had an easier way. Schools were tight-lipped about the privacy of students and teachers.

Because she still wore her gloves she opened the screen and peered through the mail slot. Cautiously. She didn’t know what the stranger was doing here—maybe he’d just checked the mail like she had, determined that Marie hadn’t come home. Then he would know the kids’ names, if he didn’t know them before.

There was a sheet of paper on the floor right in front of the mail slot. The house felt empty. She wanted that paper desperately, but that meant she would have to break in.

What would Ryan do if she got arrested?

She walked back to her car but didn’t leave. She had an idea. Not technically breaking and entering. Possibly a misdemeanor, if she was caught. But she was willing to take the risk.

Max always kept a variety of useful tools in her oversized purse, especially when she was working an investigation. But, damn, she didn’t have duct tape. Why hadn’t she brought it?

Because you haven’t been in the field lately.

She dug around her bag and found a pack of gum. She didn’t like gum and never chewed it for pleasure. She only carried it for situations like this.