“Okay, allegedly she was having an affair with a married man. And then someone broke things off. And then, suddenly, she’s being stalked and harassed and—”

“You don’t know that for sure, either.”

She took a deep breath, clearly exasperated. “Look. I do this for a living. This is the primary reason people hire me. Obsessive exes, stalkers, and revenge porn. I see this day in and day out, and I’m telling you there are red flags all over the place.” She ticked them off on her slender fingers. “The new apartment, the new phone, the bogus lawsuit, the sudden change in mood and appearance. Talk to anyone who knows her—her sister, her friends, me—and everyone will tell you that she was under duress lately. The woman was dealing with major stress, and now suddenly she’s disappeared without a trace.”

She stared at him, waiting for his reaction to this supposed breakthrough.

“Can’t you at least admit Mason Lloyd is a person of interest?” she asked.

“We’ve already got a person of interest. Two, in fact.”

She frowned. “Who?”

He shook his head. He was done giving her crumbs to follow. It was his fault she was involved in this at all, and the guilt had been eating away at him for days.

“Really, Brandon. Who?”

“Not going there. This isn’t your case.”

“Don’t even tell me you’re looking at Cooper Collins or Jason Mandrapilias.” She searched his face, obviously wanting him to confirm or deny that they were suspects. “Because neither of them fits the profile.”

He laughed. “You’re a profiler now?”

“In a way, yes. I am. I deal with these kinds of cases all the time, and I’m telling you Cooper and Jason are not the type.”

“Why not?”

“They just aren’t,” she said. “I checked them out. By all accounts, they appear stable. Both have steady jobs and no history of violence.”

“You know one of them has a criminal record?”

She shrugged. “So? That was a drug crime. Like I said, no history of violence. Mason, on the other hand, is on his third wife in ten years. I bet if we go dig up his divorce records, we’ll find some interesting skeletons in his past.”

Brandon tipped his head back and muttered a curse.

“What’s that?”

He looked at her, struggling for calm. Why couldn’t she let this go? The more he wanted her to drop it, the more determined she seemed to hang on.

“Don’t look like that,” she said.

“Like what?”

“You’re pissed at me. I can tell.”

“I’m not pissed.”

That was a lie, and she knew it.

He changed tactics, because telling her what not to do wasn’t getting him anywhere.