“That’s great. Our marriage is at a crossroads, but some dead guy is more impor—”

Larkin tapped End and set his phone down. He raised his head in time to see Doyle stand from his chair, eyeing Larkin in open and honest concern. But Doyle didn’t say anything, because it wasn’t his business and he knew that, respected that. He took his two sketches on a walk to the copy room, which could be found easily without directions—just follow the sound of mechanics and the smell of toner.

Aiko Miyamoto, phone to her ear, spun in her chair to watch Doyle pass her desk and vanish into the closet-sized room. She shuffled her feet, picked up her cell, and then a moment later, Larkin’s phone had a text notification.

He opened the app. Miyamoto had sent him a peach emoji. He looked across the bullpen with a frown.

Miyamoto waggled her eyebrows before whoever had her on hold finally answered and she began talking into the receiver.

Larkin’s cell buzzed with another incoming call, and this time, he really was going to send Noah to voicemail. He didn’t have the time for this—but there was no name on the ID, only a local number. He answered with a brisk, “Detective Larkin.”

“Detective, this is Camila Garcia… Marco’s mother.”

Larkin’s mental Rolodex immediately spun to a different case.

Marco Garcia. Pushed in front of an incoming Q train. Tunnel vision. No drugs. Newly reopened twenty-three-year-old cold case. Camila Garcia had refused all attempts at communication thus far.

“Mrs. Garcia. Thank you for calling.”

“You were extremely persistent. I thought, if I didn’t call you, eventually you’d show up at the salon while I was getting my hair done.”

Bit of an exaggeration, Larkin thought with a frown. “I would like to take some time to speak in person.”

“Well….” Camila clearly wasn’t so keen on that. “Everything I know I told the cops twenty-three years ago. There’s nothing new to add.”

“I understand. But with all due respect to Detective Kent before me, I’m not him.”

“Marco wasn’t into drugs.” She was firm.

“I agree,” Larkin answered. “And so I have different questions to ask, different avenues I’d like to explore. I understand that it’s difficult to dredge these memories back up—”