Marge said, “Did you happen to see Garth the night that Adrianna was in the bar?”

“Not that I remember.” She poured the coffee out, handed a mug to each of the detectives, and sat back down on the couch.

Marge took a sip of coffee and looked around for a coaster.

Yvette said, “Just put it on the table. I don’t have coasters because I rarely serve anyone. I don’t cook and there’s a coffee shop around the corner. It’s my home away from home.”

“Sounds convenient,” Oliver told her. “Are you ready to look at the photos?”

“I guess.”

Marge offered her the six-pack that she had made this morning. There were six men with similar facial features—three on top and three on the bottom. Tinsley was on the bottom, right side.

Reluctantly, Yvette took the card, her eyes scanning the images. Then they widened. “Oh my God, it’s this one.” Her finger was on the right bottom. “This is the guy that Adrianna was talking to.”

Marge and Oliver exchanged glances. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. If you knew, why are you asking me?”

“We didn’t know until you told us,” Oliver said.

“But you put him in the picture,” Yvette said. “You had to have known.”

Marge shrugged, but Yvette wasn’t having any of that. Her hands started shaking. “He saw me, Sergeant! He saw me and I waited on him. Now I’m identifying him. Do I have to be nervous?”

Feigning a casual air, Oliver shook his head. “Nah, we’ll pick him up and talk to him. We know where to find him.”

“How do you know? Who is this guy?”

“That’s what we aim to find out.”

AFTER THE DOCTOR’S visit, Rina took Gabe shopping. He insisted on paying and she didn’t argue. He was happy about that. Rina had a way of making him feel calm but not smothered. She didn’t try to parent him. She let him make his own choices, but if he had questions, she’d offer advice. She also had a great sense of humor. She was kind of like your favorite teacher. By the time they were finished, Gabe had two bags of clothes and two new sets of sneakers. She told him that she had stuff to do at her school, so she dropped him off at the house, giving him his own keys.

He went into the room and started to straighten out the closet again, emptying a few shelves for his meager things. It wasn’t like he was moving in, but he was trying to make himself a bit more comfortable. Afterward, he read until his eyes felt strained. He tried to sleep but to no avail. Bored and lonely, he picked up the guitar, knowing that he shouldn’t be fingering a fret board with a sore left hand.