Galimore and I got out and followed a walk bisecting a luxuriantly green lawn. The air smelled of jasmine and fresh-cut grass. From somewhere, I heard the tic-tic of a sprinkler.

Galimore thumbed the bell. A muted chime bonged inside the house.

Seconds passed. Galimore was reaching out again when the door swung inward.

The woman was tall and weighed approximately the same as my purse. She wore black spandex shorts and an oversize tee atop a black sports bra. Which was not needed. She held a plastic water bottle in one hand.

“Yes?”

Galimore flashed some sort of badge, quickly jammed it back into his pocket.

“Sorry to disturb your workout, ma’am. We’re looking for Craig Bogan.” Sunny as could be.

“Why?”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

“Then so are his whereabouts.”

Galimore beamed a megawatt smile. “My bad. Let’s start again.” The woman took a long slug from the bottle. “You think my tits are saggy?”

“Far from it.”

“Craig does.”

“Then Craig needs corrective lenses.”

“He needs more than that.” The woman stuck out a hand. “Reta Yountz.”

They shook so forcefully, Reta’s bracelet jumped like a string of ladybugs doing a conga.

“Craig would be Craig Bogan?” Galimore asked.

Reta nodded.

“Your husband?”

“Jesus, no. We just live together.”

Reta tipped her head to one side and opened her lips ever so slightly. Her face had a sheen of perspiration that made her cheeks shine.

“Maybe I’ll get a boob job.” Looking directly at Galimore.

“A totally unnecessary expenditure.” Looking straight back.

I fought an impulse to roll my eyes.

As Galimore worked his charm, I studied Reta. Her hair was pulled carelessly up and held back by an elastic band. I guessed her age at around forty.

“We’d like to ask your boyfriend a few questions.” Galimore was oozing charisma. “Nothing big.”

“You’ll come back and see me afterwards?” Reta used the hem of the tee to wipe her throat, exposing a rock-hard midriff.

“You can count on it.”

“He’s in the greenhouse.”

The greenhouse was one of those glass and metal affairs that, from a distance, look like the skeleton of an actual building. This one was much larger than I’d expected, big enough to accommodate a couple of small planes.

When we entered, the heat and humidity felt like a living thing. The air was heavy with the smells of fertilizer, loam, and compost.

Overhead, the glass walls arched into a high dome. Underfoot, the ground was covered with gravel.

Rows of wooden planters shot the length of the building, each outfitted with pipes that ran upward into more pipes that I assumed were a central irrigation system. Baskets hung from hooks. Pots sat on the floor.

There was so much flora I could almost hear the photosynthesis going on around me. I knew some easy ones. Basil, impatiens, ferns, geraniums. The rest were a leafy green mystery.