“She’s originally from back east. She still has an uncle in Maryland. She also filed a restraining order against a boyfriend in Houston.”

“Any word on where he is?”

“Prison. Convicted of armed robbery three months ago.”

“I’ll need copies of her case file as well as files for Susan Wallace.”

“Of course.”

He leaned close, knowing he towered over her. “Search your records back about ten years. Find me the files of all the missing persons who resemble these women.”

“I’ll get on it now.”

“And Detective Rivers, next time you have a lead in one of my cases, you call me. Don’t go behind my back again.” His voice was low, level. “Understand?”

She raised her chin a notch. “Yes, sir.”

Jordan’s injury had burrowed under his skin, scraped against his nerves, and left him spoiling for a fight. It was better he left now than unload his frustrations on Rivers.

In his car, he checked the address for Missy Stapleton and drove to the small rental house in East Austin. The house was one level and made of an earth-color stucco. The front yard was littered with trash, unused tires, and several cars.

Hand on his weapon, he walked to the front door and banged on it with his fist. When there was no response, he struck the door again, determined to wake up every damn person in the house. Finally, a curtain covering a window fluttered, and the front door opened. The woman standing there was petite with bleached-blond hair. She wore a tank top that showed off a bee tattoo on her arm and cutoff jeans.

She raised her gaze to the star pinned on his chest, her annoyance softening. “Texas Ranger. What’s going on?”

“Are you Missy Stapleton?” he asked.

“Yes.” She shifted her weight back and forth.

“You haven’t been answering your cell phone.”

“Ran out of minutes. Why are you here?”

“I have questions about Casey Andrews.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. Maybe a month.” She slipped her hands into her pockets. “We both worked at the same place but different shifts. We were supposed to get coffee soon but never could settle on a time.”

“Why did she move out?”

“She’s on this new clean-and-sober kick.”

“And that’s not for you?”

She hesitated. “I want to be. And will be one day. But now’s not the best time.” She glanced at her bare toes painted with red polish. The big toe’s polish was chipped.

“I’m trying to find Casey. Did she ever mention anyone that might be bothering her?”

“Her drug dealer was hassling her the other day. He had tempted her with a baggie of drugs. She took it but said she couldn’t toss it.”

“You said you haven’t seen her.”

“It was a text.” She reached for her back pocket and produced a phone sporting a blue rhinestone case.