She and Joe hung on in silence for a while. For a moment, she thought the call had dropped. Then she realized that Joe was trying to contain his emotion. “I’ll kill whoever did this to him,” Joe growled under his breath.

She hushed him. “Be careful what you say there.”

“I want you to find out who did this,” he said. “You’re better than the SBPD. If it wasn’t for you, some dog would be chewing on those bones.”

“Stop,” she said. “Okay.”

“Where will you go?”

She told him whom she had talked to since she’d seen him at CAL. Selma and her Frankenstein henchman. The women at Miracle Manor. The House of Hearts Retreat Center. There hadn’t been any legitimate leads. Nothing of substance. “Do you have any ideas?”

“What did Selma tell you again?”

“That she wanted to put barrettes in his hair when he was a kid. That I should go home and lock myself in a closet and face my ego.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.”

“You think Selma’s involved?”

Joe said, “You need to bring everyone together somehow. And watch them.”

“What do you mean?”

“A memorial. Or a meeting. Something.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“When will you be ready, Izzy? How much more dead does he need to be?”

Of course she would never be ready, but she would do what needed to be done.

◆◆◆

When she came out of the bathroom, Ever was up and dressed, staring out the window at the yellow-green shrubs waving at the sky like eldritch hands. She smelled coffee and heard the comforting castanet-click of eggs boiling in a pan on the stove.

“That was his brother from CAL,” Izzy said.

“Can you talk about it now?” Ever moved to her side. She was struck, again, by the height and breadth of him, the warmth radiating through his clothes.

“He wants me to set up some kind of memorial. Watch everyone’s faces or some such shit.”

“The cops will figure this out.”

She only had to look at him.

“I mean, isn’t it different now?”

“It’s not different. They still won’t confirm it’s him.”

Ever put his arms around her, and she leaned her head against his pectoral muscles, felt his beating heart. “If this is what you want to do—” he said, and she felt the words vibrating into her.

“This is.”

“I’ll help you,” Ever said. “Let’s just try the cops first.”

◆◆◆

But, as she’d expected, when they went to the police station, they were told the forensics still weren’t back yet.

“What about the ring?” Izzy said. “That was his ring.”

The cop—not Decker, another guy—told her that the ring could have been stolen. That the hand wearing the ring could have belonged to someone else.

Ever put his hand on her thigh to keep her from leaping up, from hitting the cop across the face.