Barnes snorts in shock, fighting a school boy chuckle. “You were taking a shit and left the front door unmanned?”

“Not like we’ve got coverage for bathroom breaks or even need it. I know my role is basically a glorified greeter. Might as well go work at the Wal-Mart in town,” he grumbles before adding bitterly, “Welcome in . . . have a good day.”

Barnes sighs and plops into his chair. “You’re right. Sorry, Alver.”

“What?” I shout.

“Blake, if you want to keep yelling at the man for taking care of nature’s call, be my guest,” Barnes says. “But you know inside that we’ve all had to drop a deuce while at work. If you want to help me find Zoey, then let’s do that while we still have a chance at finding her alive.”

He knows exactly how to chill the blood in my veins. Dismissing Alver, I growl, “What do you need me to do?”

“Good. Let’s think . . . Yvette is mad about this morning, blames Zoey, so she kidnaps her. Why not you? You’re the money man,” he theorizes.

“I’m also a bit bigger than Zoey,” I remind him. “Not as easy to kidnap. Ransom?” I suggest, figuring if Yvette can’t get money one way, maybe she thought she’d try another.

Barnes shakes his head. “Whole county knows Zoey as Drop-Dead Gorgeous, knows about her supposed curse. And they know she’s basically poor. County don’t pay big for the coroner. Hate to say it, but there’s no one who’d pay a ransom for Zoey.”

I would. I’d pay anything for her to be safe and sound, down in her morgue talking to cadavers, even if she’s still mad at me.

That, I could handle. This, I cannot.

Alver makes a spitting noise over his shoulder like just talking about the curse might make him a target. Barnes rolls his eyes in exasperation.

“What are we missing?”

“Don’t matter now. Just need to find her,” Alver adds uselessly as he sits in a nearby chair, crossing one leg over the other like he’s setting up for a long break.

“That’s what we’re trying to do!” I’m losing it again, any semblance of chill, calm, and collected gone like smoke at the thought of what might be happening to Zoey while we’re sitting here doing nothing.

“Not Zoey. Yvette. You both are focusing on the why, supposing this and that. Ain’t important now. If Yvette Horne took Zoey, where’d she take her? People go where they’re familiar when they’re under stress, so there are only so many places Yvette can go. Kenny’s checking the house. Where else?”