“It’s not like that,” Ellie said. “Steve was the go-to guy on the WPD. It’s no coincidence that he would have gotten assigned to such a high-profile murder case, and he’d also be an obvious contender for the job he has at LockeHome.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Lindsay said, “but that’s a pretty major job for a retired detective from a midsize police force, no matter how heavy of a hitter he was at home.”

“No, it’s really not,” Ellie assured her. “They’ve got retired FBI and military intelligence to do the really high-speed stuff. Most of that’s cybersecurity anyway, and Steve would be completely out of his element. He oversees the physical security at the Wichita office complex. Look, if you want me to call him and see if he’s willing to talk to you and your friend about the case, I can.”

“Thanks for the offer, but please don’t do that yet. I need to learn more about whatever wild-goose chase the police here are on before I can develop a strategy for my client.”

Ellie knew that would be her response. No defense attorney would allow a client to talk to a homicide detective, even one who was retired. She found herself wondering how Hope—or Tara King—might be connected to the Richard Mullaney case. Even without the lawyer’s permission, she might have to give Steve a ring.

By the time she hung up, Jess had given up on the wall unit. “What was that about?”

“It was that lawyer who called me about the missing friend and the DNA match.”

“You told me you dropped that.”

“I did, but now it’s pretty clear the friend’s also a suspect in a murder case. Didn’t you see on the news that the police were looking for her?”

Jess flashed a really? expression. Her brother definitely did not keep up with the local news. She gave him a quick summary of the little she knew about Alex Lopez’s death and Hope Miller’s arrest.

Jess still looked confused. “So why was the lawyer asking about Steve?”

“Because the police think this woman Hope is actually named Tara King. And they asked her what she knew about Richard Mullaney’s murder, which was one of Steve’s cases.”

Jess suddenly fell quiet and began chewing the inside of his cheek, the way he did when he was nervous, which was almost never. “Do you have a picture of her?”

Lindsay pulled up a Newsday article and handed her phone to him. “That’s from this year. Wait, do you actually think you know her?”

She watched as his gaze shifted to the screen. He pressed his lips together as he studied it. When he stood from the floor, he returned her phone but avoided looking at her, seemingly focused on something in the distance.