“Thanks for your help,” A.L. said. “We’ll likely be back later to look at the file. If you could grease the wheels on that, it would be appreciated.”

“Consider it done. Good luck.”

A.L. and Rena walked back to his vehicle and plugged the address into the GPS. Thirteen miles. They were halfway there when Rena turned to him.

“This makes me think of Golf Course John.”

Last spring, he and Rena had been investigating a serial murderer and had stumbled upon Golf Course John, a pleasant enough twenty-two-year-old man who worked behind the counter at the Baywood Golf Course, who A.L. had wanted to kill once he’d voluntarily disclosed that he was dating A.L.’s then sixteen-year-old daughter. “I try not to think of him,” A.L. said.

“You’re confident that’s over?” Rena asked.

“Traci says it is. I am bothered by the fact that she’s going to homecoming with the same boy she went to prom with.”

“Why does that bother you?”

“Well, she says they’re just friends.”

“I’m still unclear. That should make you happy.”

“You would think. But she went to prom with him because she couldn’t go with Golf Course John since he was too old. I can’t help but wonder if the same thing isn’t still happening.”

“So ask her?”

“I have to assume that she’s telling me the truth until I have proof that she isn’t.”

Rena gave him a look. “Tess is coaching you, isn’t she?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “She has a good relationship with her daughter. I could do worse than take her advice.”

“Agree. But I always thought you had pretty good parenting instincts.”

Now he glanced at her. “That sounds like a compliment, Morgan.”

She smiled. “What do you think Doug Franklin is going to tell us?”

“More than the file would. That’s why we’re going to see him.”

When they walked into the clubhouse, a man sitting at a corner table waved them over. He was sixty-something, wearing plaid shorts and a bright green shirt. He glanced at their badges and motioned for them to take a chair. “Tell me what’s happened,” he said, not bothering with any pleasantries.

Rena leaned forward. “Five-year-old female was dropped off by her grandmother at day care. At the end of the day, when her father came to pick her up, it was discovered that she hadn’t been there the entire day. Grandmother swears she handed her off to her teacher at the front door. Teacher says it never happened. She’s been missing for almost twenty-nine hours at this point.”