He left the bank and called Rena from the car. Filled her in. First on the fact that Shana Federer thought she’d seen Kara Wiese in the bathroom prior to 7:30. “Are you going to ask Kara about it?”

“Not just yet,” he said.

She didn’t ask why, probably figured he had a reason. After all, by Shana’s own admission she thought it was her but she didn’t really look at her. It just felt like something he wanted to hold in his pocket for now.

Then he told her about his conversation with Hanzel’s boss.

“Didn’t you say he was sort of an exuberant guy, kind of loud?” she asked. “Is it possible that’s a well-honed defense mechanism? Act confident and like you’re a winner and people will think you are. It’s a little like Chief Faster.”

That made sense. Both Steven Hanzel and Faster set his teeth on edge.

Talking to Rena made him remember that he had yet to order flowers for Tess. “I’ve got to go,” he said.

“I’ll call once I’ve talked to Melissa Wayne,” Rena said.

A.L. hung up the phone and made a quick right-hand turn. Three minutes later, he pulled up in front of Petal Poof.

There was a young woman behind the counter who had probably been hired to take Jane Picus’s spot. Five minutes later, he’d purchased a forty-dollar bouquet of fresh flowers with a fall theme. Whatever the hell that was. He’d been assured the bouquet would be delivered today.

“Do you want a special message on the card?” the woman asked.

Maybe don’t pay attention to my crazy ex-wife, I never do. “No. Just A.L.”

“Al?” she asked.

“No. Never mind. Sign it Able.”

Rena rolled into Dover at 8:45. She had Melissa Wayne’s address plugged into her GPS. The woman’s house was a two-story with white siding, green shutters, a brick driveway and well-tended flowers in big pots. Nice, she thought. She knocked on the door. A woman wearing scrubs answered the door. She wasn’t very tall and Rena could easily look over her shoulder. She didn’t see or hear anything that made her think a five-year-old was in the house.

“Melissa Wayne?” Rena asked.

The woman shook her head. “She’s not home. Can I help you?”

Rena pulled her badge. “Detective Morgan, Baywood Police Department.”

The woman briefly studied her badge. Then lifted her face. “Is something wrong?”

“Can you tell me where I might find Melissa Wayne?” Rena asked.

“She’s at her shop.”

“Shop?” Rena repeated.

“She owns the Brighter Day Salon on Parke Street,” the woman said. “They open at 7:30 on Saturdays.”

“May I have your name, please?” Rena said.

“Candiss Lake.”

“And your relationship to Ms. Wayne?”

“Personal,” Candiss said, her voice edgy.