They pulled up in the Cranes’ driveway. There were no cars parked in the driveway, but lights were on in the downstairs windows. Someone was home.

“Hicks called a while ago and asked for Dr. Crane,” he said. “Janet Crane said he wasn’t home and she isn’t expecting him until late.”

“That’s all right,” Vince said, getting out of the car. “That’s fine, actually. I have a thing or two to say to Mrs. Crane.”

“Should I call you an ambulance now or wait?” Mendez asked.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Let me show you how to handle Janet Crane.”

“Better you than me,” Mendez said as they started up the sidewalk.

“Walk up right behind me,” Vince instructed. “I don’t want her to see you when she opens the door. After that, just follow my lead.”

Vince went to the Crane’s front door and rang the bell. Beautiful home. Mr. and Mrs. California lived here. The perfect couple with the perfect home and perfect jobs and a perfect child; perfect tans and perfect white smiles. A pretty facade. The thing Vince had learned over the years was that a lot of not-so-perfect things often lived behind a beautiful exterior.

Janet Crane peeked out the sidelight, her face switching from annoyed to overjoyed in the blink of an eye. Welcome to the borderline personality disorder, Vince thought.

“Mr. Leone!” she said, opening the door. She was a little confused, an emotion that didn’t sit well with her. How did he know where she lived? Why would he come by at such a late hour? “What a surprise!”

Vince smiled the big smile. “Mrs. Crane, sorry to bother you so late, but we have some questions for you.”

“We?”

He stepped to the side enough that she could see Mendez behind him. Now she smelled a rat, and the nice smile hardened.

“Detective.” Her gaze darted back and forth between them. “What’s this about?”

“Well, I have a small confession to make,” Vince began amiably. “It would probably be better if we came inside and sat down for this. You don’t want your neighbors looking out and seeing a couple of guys on your doorstep at eleven o’clock at night.”

She hesitated just enough to let him move toward her, then automatically stepped back, and he easily stepped into the foyer. Mendez stepped in behind him.

She had changed out of her red power suit into a pink jogging suit, but the makeup was still in place and the black hair was still starched stiff.

“I’m a little confused, Mr. Leone. Why would you feel the need to bring a detective with you to my home?”

Vince played contrite, ducking his head. “That’s where the confession comes in. I’m afraid I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with you earlier today.”

She was working up to disliking him now. She wouldn’t take kindly to being played.