“You guys keep pretty busy with cases like that?” Brandon asked.

“Online harassment, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “There’s no shortage of bad actors out there. Same reason you stay busy, right? Some people are sick. And a depressing number of them use technology to terrorize women and upend their lives.”

“Just women?”

“Mostly. At least the ones who come see us.” Her expression darkened. “Social media is rife with misogyny, you know. Harassment, rape threats, extortion. Some people do it for profit or for fun or because they’re sadistic. Some people are just flat-out crazy, and someone in their life becomes a target for that.”

Target. Exactly what Brandon was worried about with this missing-person case.

“Who referred Vanessa to your firm?” he asked.

“No idea.”

He shot her a look.

“What? She didn’t say.”

“Don’t you make it your business to find out where your clients are coming from?”

“Yes. But in this case, I don’t know. She didn’t mention a referral or anything, and it’s not like I grill people the second they walk in the door.”

He sighed, and she leaned forward.

“Listen, Detective. I’d like to help you.”

“Call me Brandon.”

She nodded. “I’d like to help you, Brandon. Really. You have no idea how often I have a client who’s pushed to the brink because the police won’t take her seriously. Some of these guys are experts at skirting the law. It’s maddening. But in this case, I really don’t know about a problem Vanessa might or might not have been having with anyone.”

“What about the landlord? Who is it?”

“I don’t know offhand.”

“I need a name.”

She watched him, and he could see the debate going on in her head. Attorney-client privilege versus helping police with what was potentially a murder investigation.

A chime emanated from her purse, and she checked her phone. He watched her reaction, hoping maybe it was Vanessa returning her phone calls, and they could all go home, mystery solved. But Leigh’s face gave nothing away.

She tucked her phone away and looked at him.

“It’s late,” she said, “and I still have work left to do tonight.”

He didn’t doubt she had work tonight, but her tone told him that was an excuse to leave.

“I’d like to get that name,” he said.

She pulled a twenty from her purse and tucked it under the beer. “I’ll think about it.” She slid from the booth.

“Don’t think too long.” He gave her a stern look. “A case like this, the clock’s ticking.”

*   *   *