I wondered about Primrose's son. Was he married? A father? In the army? Gay? Were mother and child close? Occasionaly my work casts me as the bearer of life's most terrible news. In one visit, families are shattered, lives forever altered. Pete had said that most marine officers in Vietnam days would rather engage the enemy than visit a home in middle America to deliver a message of death. I wholeheartedly shared those sentiments.

I imagined the son's face, blank at first, confused. Then, with comprehension, agony, grief, the pain of an open wound. I closed my eyes, sharing at that moment his crushing despair.

'I dropped in at the Riverbank Inn.'

Crowe's voice brought me back.

'After the marina, I swung by for a chat with Ralph and Brenda,' she said. 'They admitted they hadn't seen Hobbs since Sunday, but didn't consider it odd. She'd left without explanation twice during her stay, so they assumed she'd gone off again.'

'Gone off where?'

'They figured she was visiting family.'

'And?'

'Her room suggested otherwise. Al her toiletries were there, toothbrush, dental floss, face cream, the things a woman takes when she travels. Her clothes were stil in the dresser, suitcase empty under the bed. Her arthritis medication was sitting on the nightstand.'

'Purse? Car keys?'

'Negative. Looks like she may have left the room on her own, but she wasn't planning to be away overnight.'

Crowe listened while I described my own visit to the inn, leaving out nothing but my larcenous intentions.

'Why do you suppose Ralph went into her room?'

'Your intuition may have been right. Curiosity. Or maybe he knows more than he's letting on. Maybe he wanted to get something out. I don't have that yet, but we will be

'Your intuition may have been right. Curiosity. Or maybe he knows more than he's letting on. Maybe he wanted to get something out. I don't have that yet, but we will be watching Mr. Stover. We'l also talk to anyone acquainted with the victim, look for witnesses who might have seen her during the time she was missing. You know the dril.'

'Round up the usual suspects.'

'In Swain County, that ain't many.'

'Was there nothing in that room to suggest where she might have gone? An address? A map? A tol ticket?'

The line hummed.

'We found two numbers next to the phone.'

As she read the digits, my stomach tightened.

The first rang at High Ridge House. The second rang the celular on my belt.

===OO=OOO=OO===

An hour later I lay in bed, trying to sort and evaluate what I knew.