“I don’t know where he’s from and that’s the God’s honest truth.” A pause. “I don’t know if this is relevant or not, but it sticks in my mind as odd, so I’ll tell you. A few months ago, Lance asked if I wanted to meet him for a Saturday night dinner in the city. It was reading week so I didn’t have classes anymore. I figured why not. I asked him what he was doing in the city. He said he had some family affair earlier in the day and if I could come down on my own, he’d drive me back up. I agreed. I made all these plans to hitch a ride into Manhattan. At the last minute, right before I was ready to go, he called me and said, change of plans. He was in Boston. Could I come up? I was pissed but he offered me a car service to come up and we’d drive down together.”

“That was nice,” Decker said. “Even a little extravagant.”

“Yeah, it was. But we’re closer to Boston than to New York anyway, so I didn’t think much about it.”

“Did you meet him?”

“I did. He took me out to a Spanish place. It was really, really good and we had a good time. But he was downing the pitchers of sangria like it was water.”

“What did you think?”

“Well, I was kinda worried about him driving. But the meal lasted a long time and when we were done, he seemed sober enough.”

Sober enough. Great. Decker said, “Do you know why he was in Boston instead of New York?”

“I asked him that. He told me he had an audition at Boston Rep and didn’t want to tell me . . . that it was bad luck. And that made total sense. Lots of actors are very secretive about their auditions because the field is so competitive. And because he was drinking so much, I thought it probably didn’t go well. So I dropped it.”

“Does he have family in Boston?”

“No idea.”

“Friends?”

“Probably. The city is full of colleges.”

Decker said, “So what made you skeptical about his story?”

“Not exactly skeptical. More like . . .”

“Dubious?” McAdams tried. “Doubtful? Unsure? Uncertain? Hesitant? Cynical? Am I getting closer?”

She smiled. “I just think there was more to the story than an audition.”

“Angeline often went away for the weekends,” Decker said. “Do you think he could have been following her?”

“Possibly.”

“Because it happened before?”

“Not like a stalker . . . I’m not saying that. More like he was curious, I guess.” She rubbed her arms. “Can I go home now?”

“Yes, you can.” Decker looked at McAdams. “Take the spare squad car and drive her back, please.” He handed Lucy his card. “If you think of anything more that could help us, please call.”