Spencer pulled up in front of Jordan Poe’s house, dog-ass tired and carrying the crime scene scents with him. Out of the car, he surveyed the dimming light, trying to imagine what Jordan saw on a day-to-day basis. He found himself doing that frequently, especially when he woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep.

Resting his hat on his head, he strode across the yard and rang the bell. Inside, he heard hesitant footsteps, what sounded like a body bumping into furniture, and then a few choice curses.

“Identify yourself,” Jordan asked on the other side of the locked door.

“Carter Spencer.”

Security chains scraped, and the door opened to Jordan. She wore yoga pants and a V-neck sweater and had pulled her hair back into a loose bun. Barefoot, she gripped the handle of her white cane. Her gaze rose, her eyes searching. “Spencer. Thanks for coming.”

“You said it was important.”

She stepped aside. “Come inside.”

He removed his hat and stepped over the threshold. “Everything all right?”

“Good as can be expected. Can I get you something? Just made a pot of coffee.”

“Sounds good.”

“Follow me at your own peril,” she said. “My sister did more rearranging, thinking she was helping, but it’s driving me crazy. Nothing is as I remembered.”

“You look like you’re managing. You held your own today at the crime scene.”

“I’m the proverbial duck. Floating on top, paddling like mad under the surface.”

“Aren’t we all.”

She smoothed her fingertips along a wall and rounded the corner to the kitchen. On the other side of the island, she reached into a cabinet and located two mugs. “Now the trick will be to pour and not spill.”

Instinct pushed him to help, but he held back. This was her journey, and he would help only if asked.

She poured two cups, filling them two-thirds full, and then set one out in front of him. “Progress.”

He sipped the coffee. “And you make a decent cup of coffee.”

“A talent I have not lost.”

“I bet there’re plenty you haven’t lost.”

“I hope so.”

So did he. “Why the call?”

“I went by Casey Andrews’s mother’s house this afternoon. Avery drove me.”

A smile tweaked the edges of his lips. “I could say I’m surprised you’re still working the case, but that would be a lie.”

“Leopard can’t change his spots.”

“What did you learn?”

“Not much from Mrs. Andrews. I did ask her to go through Casey’s room.”

“I had officers do that.”

“She told me. But she wants to find her girl, and who knows what she’ll uncover.” She turned the cup, slipped her finger through the handle, and cradled it. “Casey’s younger sister, Cloe, had more to say.”

“She barely spoke to me when I was at the house.”