Eileen looked down at the book in her hands. “You said she didn’t have any real friends. But she used to.”

He didn’t follow what she was saying.

“Donna Mehan,” Eileen said. “She lived with Clare for over five years, and whatever may have happened to drive them apart, they were once friends. And now, Donna did this for Clare.” She held up the book. “She might know something. If Clare was in contact with her, she might be able to help us figure this out.”

“What? You think I should email her?”

“No,” Eileen said, reaching for the phone on his desk. “I think you should call her. Right now.” She lifted the receiver off its cradle and held it out to him.

He didn’t move. Call Donna Mehan? “I can’t do that,” he blurted.

“Why not?”

He scoffed. “She’s…Donna Mehan.”

“And my sister, your wife, was Clare Collins. You want to get closer to your why? Start with what small clues we have.”

“Even if I wanted to, it’s not like I just have her num—”

“What?” she asked him, still holding the receiver.

“I don’t have her number, but I do know her agent.”

In two quick steps, he stood at his desk and was taking the phone from Eileen before he had a chance to think this through or change his mind. Eileen was right. What the hell was he thinking? Everything was turned to chaos in his world. The old rules of professional etiquette did not apply here. He didn’t care if he needed to hunt down the Queen of England to get the answers he wanted; he would find a way and do it. He put the hardline receiver down and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. In ten seconds he was scrolling through his hundreds of contacts until he landed on Susan Gomes, Donna’s agent. He had both her office and cell numbers. He touched the cell and switched his phone to speaker so Eileen could listen in.

“What should I say?” he asked Eileen as the phone began to ring.

Eileen shrugged. “Just ask if—”

“This is Susan Gomes,” the voice from his cell phone suddenly announced.

“Susan, hi,” he jumped in, still not sure of exactly how he was going to approach this call, explain why he needed what he wanted. “It’s Simon Reamer.”

“Simon?” Susan asked, her shock evident. “Oh, God…I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes. Everyone already knew everything. The whole publishing world would be in shock over what Clare had done. There was no need to explain anything to anyone. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m calling because I need to get hold of Donna. Clare recently reached out to her.”

“For the blurb request—I remember.”

“I’d like to speak to her. See if she knows anything.”