“Lisa Warwick’s vacation plans didn’t turn up anything,” Hamilton said. “But her phone records show a lot of calls to the law offices of Quinn, Morgan and Associates. Two calls the day she disappeared.”

“She volunteered as a court advocate to women from the center,” Mendez said. “Morgan handles most of the family court cases. I think she might have had a thing for him. He’s tougher to read. I haven’t spoken to his wife yet.”

“Steve Morgan is as straight an arrow as they come,” Dixon said.

“He’s the guy in the photograph?” Trammell asked.

“Yeah,” Mendez said.

“I finally talked to the next-door neighbor last night,” Trammell went on. “Nosey old bat. She said she saw a man coming and going from Lisa Warwick’s house from time to time at odd hours, late at night. She—the neighbor—is up at odd hours on account of her sciatica, she told me. I showed her the photo. She couldn’t swear he was the guy, because it was always dark, but she thought it could be. Right height, right build.”

“When was the last time she saw him?” Mendez asked.

“She wasn’t sure—I think she drinks for that sciatica—but she thought it was maybe the night before Warwick went missing.”

Dixon swore under his breath. “Tony, talk to Morgan again.”

“We’ve got the maintenance man from the Thomas Center in,” Hicks said. “He denies any connection to the stolen cars or to the women, but Miss Vickers’s friend told us he had his eye on Karly and she didn’t like it.”

“He did five in Wasco for stealing cars—”

“That’s where Gordon Sells was,” Mendez said.

“Lyle claims he didn’t know Sells there, but he has been to Sells’s junkyard.”

“And Lyle had charges on him for abusing a girlfriend?” Dixon asked.

“Six months’ worth.”

“He’s still here?” Dixon asked.

“Holding him on a bench warrant for outstanding traffic violations. But unless we come up with his prints in one of those cars, we’ve got nothing to charge him with. He can pay his fines and go.”

“Talk to him again,” Dixon said. “If nothing turns up, kick him loose. Hamilton and Stuart, I want you to canvass the businesses around Peter Crane’s dental office. So far, that’s still the last place anybody saw Karly Vickers. Trammell and Eaton, knock on every door within half a mile of Gordon Sells’s place.”

Mendez turned to Leone. “You coming with me? I’m stopping at the elementary school to talk to the Crane boy and Wendy Morgan to see if they know how the Farman kid got that finger.”

“No,” Vince said. “I have to make a call to Quantico. But do give my regards to Miss Navarre,” he added with a smug smile.

“Yeah,” Mendez said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll get right on that.”

Chapter 37

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