I cover the missing cartridge with my thumb and show Thistle. ‘All still there,’ I say. Then I close the box and put it back in the safe.

Gabriela looks at me questioningly. I give a slight nod. She doesn’t have to talk about her daughter’s suicide attempt if she doesn’t want to.

She gives me a grateful nod in return, and closes the safe door.

When we get back downstairs, Hope has turned off the TV. ‘You think Shannon has something to do with what’s happened to my dad?’ she asks.

‘We interviewed him this morning,’ Thistle says carefully. ‘At this stage we have no evidence that he did. Why do you ask?’

‘Just not sure who to trust,’ she says.

A grandfather clock ticks softly in the corner.

‘Can I make a private recommendation?’ Thistle asks. ‘Off the record?’

Hope crosses her arms. ‘What kind of recommendation?’ Thistle looks like she’s struggling to find the words. She can’t warn them about Luxford without getting into trouble.

But I can.

‘Stay away from Shannon Luxford,’ I say. ‘We don’t have any evidence that he’s connected to your husband’s disappearance. But he didn’t strike me as a good guy. If you hear from him, I think you should call us.’

Gabriela looks shocked. Hope doesn’t. I wonder if she’s heard rumours about what he does in his office.

‘Was Kenneth especially close to anyone in your extended family?’ I ask.

‘Most of his family, they live in Tennessee,’ Gabriela says. ‘We never hear from them.’

‘Was there a disagreement?’ Thistle asks.

‘They thought I was marrying Kenneth for a green card. They tried to talk him out of it. After the wedding, we lost touch.’

‘Hope,’ I say, ‘can we talk to your mother in private for a second?’

‘Why?’ Hope asks. A challenge.

‘Suit yourself,’ I say, and turn back to Gabriela. ‘How are things in the bedroom? With your husband?’

Thistle winces. Gabriela’s cheeks redden.

‘You think he abandoned us,’ Hope says. ‘Ran off with some woman.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t. A few more questions and I can rule it out entirely.’

Gabriela clears her throat. ‘We have been married for many years,’ she says. ‘We do not … make love as frequently as when we were newlyweds. But still sometimes.’

‘He never cheated on you in the past?’ I’m sure Thistle already asked this, but I want to look her in the eye when she answers.