Sullivan winked. “The DNA lab’s on the other side of the shopping center, actually. Great thing about working near Emory and the CDC. Every medical professional you could ever need is over here.”

Mandy re-entered and swiped the bags off the desk. “Be back in fifteen.”

“Thanks, hon.” Sullivan watched her sashay out of the office, a wistful smile on his face. “Isn’t she something? Sixteen years of marriage and three kids, but I never get tired of looking at her.”

“What do you think of the photos I sent you?” Troy asked.

Sullivan straightened in his seat, all business again. “I haven’t yet run down all of the names. But I noted that one of them was local, down in Griffin.”

“I saw that. Chrisette, was it?”

“I’m thinking of taking a field trip to get a look-see.” Sullivan drummed his fingers on the desktop. “If you want me to, that is. There is a charge for travel and on-site investigation.”

“Why not?” Troy shrugged. “Maybe we’ll learn something useful. At this point, I’m thoroughly perplexed.”

“Did you find anything else that you didn’t send over to me?”

“An old book full of recipes. I didn’t think it was worth a follow up, but I did take a few photos.”

“Due diligence, Doc, due diligence.” Sullivan clucked his tongue. “Send those to me, please.”

Troy accessed the recipe book pics on his phone and emailed them to Sullivan.

“Nana’s lemon pound cake,” Sullivan said, examining the new photos on his laptop. He peered at Troy. “Curious. Can she cook for shit?”

“She’s a fabulous cook. That’s about the only compliment I can give her.”

“I’m going to shoot these over to my baby sister and get her take,” Sullivan said. “She’s a chef, the real deal, trained at Johnson & Wales, worked at restaurants in Paris and New York. For a minute it looked like she was gonna get her own show on The Food Network, but the deal fell through.”

“That’s everything I’ve got,” Troy said. “So we have hair samples from Monica and Grace, a collection of women’s names from an address book with indecipherable dates, and recipes for Nana’s lemon pound cake, among other treats.”

“And I’m going to check out Chrisette Thomas, in Griffin,” Sullivan said. “We’ll get DNA results back by tomorrow.”

“Is there anything else I can do while I’m waiting?” Troy asked.

“Actually, yeah.” Sullivan snapped his fingers. “Just remembered. You said something when we talked before, about how this woman and your wife will hole up in the bedroom with the door locked?”

“Every night.” Troy wasn’t going to share how Grace had squeezed his wrists and brought him to his knees. It was too embarrassing to admit to another man that such a thing had happened.

“What are they doing in there?” Sullivan asked.