Mandy’s bedroom was large, with a big picture window and a door leading to a small balcony that overlooked some rooftops. Her bed was made and her nightstand tops were clear except for a phone charger and a clock. Her closets were organized by color. Marge searched through her hanging clothes, then went on to the dresser drawers, which were as orderly as the closet. “If she took off, it doesn’t look like she packed a lot of clothes. There’s lots of stuff left behind.”

Oliver got up off his knees after looking under the bed. “I haven’t found any luggage. The head nurse said Mandy was planning a vacation of sorts. Maybe she decided to extend her trip.”

“And not call in to her boss?”

“Yeah, she hasn’t been portrayed as the spontaneous sort.”

“Maybe she has a dark side.” Marge started talking to herself. “Okay, dark side, if I were you, where would I hide? If I were into drugs, maybe I’d hide in the freezer or in the toilet tank.”

“I’ll give it the old college try,” Oliver said. But he returned a few minutes later empty-handed. “We’re wasting our time. I could request a warrant for phone records, but since she hasn’t been reported missing, I don’t know if I could get it.”

“Does she have a MySpace or a Facebook? Sometimes they post things that may help us out.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m too old for that nonsense.”

“You mean you don’t want a thousand Facebook friends?”

“Au contraire, I’d love to lose a few that I already have. Call the Loo and let’s get our next move.”

But Marge wasn’t ready to leave. She went back into Mandy’s closet, checking the walls and floors.

“What are you looking for?” Oliver asked.

“Maybe a safe…” She sighed. “One more shot, Scotty, just for the heck of it.”

“Sure, why not. I’ll go over the living room—again.”

Marge started rummaging through Mandy’s clothes a second time. The dresser was just low enough to hurt her back. And if she dropped to her knees, she couldn’t look into the top drawer properly. She decided to take the entire drawer out and put it on the bed, going through the items while seated, starting with the bottom drawer filled with bulky sweaters and sweatshirts. Mandy was neurotically meticulous, tucking tissue paper inside every sweatshirt and sweater to keep each article from wrinkling. The clothes crackled static as Marge went through them, piece by piece by piece, unfolding them, and then folding them back up. When she got to a thick green cable knit, she felt something a little more solid between the front and back of the sweater.

Inside was a double-ply plastic bag.

“And what is this?” She regarded the contents. Then her eyes widened. “Oliver?” No answer. “Yo, Scott.”