“That’s what I’m trying to determine. We know he was partying with a woman who lived next door. She had a record for prostitution and drug use. According to her, they parted ways about four in the morning, and then she came back about six a.m. to get her phone.”

“Model citizens,” he said.

Jordan let the comment pass and took a moment to carefully fold and lay her napkin by her bowl. “Did Elena ever mention any of Walker’s friends? Any that might have felt threatening.”

Mr. Sanchez scoffed. “They were all threatening.”

“Did she ever mention if Walker had trafficked her?”

Mrs. Sanchez raised her hand to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes.

Mr. Sanchez was silent and then: “She never said anything about that to me. Constance, this would have been a conversation a girl has with her mother.”

Mrs. Sanchez swiped a tear. “There were men who tried to take advantage, but she said Walker kept them away from her.”

“Okay.”

“Are you saying that monster gave my daughter to other men?” Mrs. Sanchez asked.

“I have no evidence he did. I’m here only because I wanted to have this conversation with you out of respect. When the medical examiner’s report comes in, I’ll touch base.”

Regardless of how she felt about the couple and their loss, if either had killed Walker, there would have to be a reckoning.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Sanchez said. “You have been very kind to us. And we know it is not your fault that Walker got bail. We were just shocked and upset the other day.”

“I know,” Jordan said.

Jordan rose, as did Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez. Mrs. Sanchez found a smile, but her husband stood back, his expression stoic.

In the car, Jordan slid on her sunglasses, turned on the engine, and opened her window, letting the hot, dry air warm her chilled skin. She truly felt for the couple. She could have been them two years ago, standing in a courtroom screaming for justice and grieving her sister’s death.

She drove through the Sanchezes’ small working-class neighborhood and up I-35, finding the traffic unusually light. Her phone rang. “Detective Poe.”

“It’s Detective Rivers. Missing persons.”

“Detective, what can I do for you?”

“I’ve been thinking about the missing person cases I sent over to you.”

“You know the Texas Rangers are conducting the investigation now.”

“I know. And Ranger Spencer will be my next call. Right after lunch.”

A smile tweaked the corner of Jordan’s lips. Seemed Spencer had ruffled more feathers than her own. “What do you have?”