He understood what she wasn’t saying. If the searchers hadn’t managed to find her in that amount of time, it wasn’t looking good. “You think it’s weird that Perry and LuAnn Whitman aren’t camped out at Leah and Troy’s house?”

“You don’t buy Leah’s explanation that they didn’t want to be a bother?”

“Family unites at a time like this. I think we need to talk to them.”

“Equal opportunity police interrogations for all grandparents,” Rena said.

“You and I both know—”

“Yeah, yeah. Family gets looked at hard for a reason. It’s just so damn hideous.”

“It is what it is,” A.L. said.

They were both quiet as he drove Rena back to get her car. Once in the parking lot, he turned to her. “See you tomorrow.”

She opened her door, stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Are you going to see Tess?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I might call her.”

“I don’t think you do your best work on the phone,” Rena said. “You should go see her.”

“You should go home,” he said.

Before she shut her door, she said, “I know what I’m talking about. You should listen to me.”

He watched her walk to her car, get in and then pull out of the lot. He took his foot off the brake and was right behind her.

His first instinct was to let things settle a little bit.

But Rena probably was smarter about these things than he was.

He picked up the phone and called Tess.

“Hi,” she said.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. But I did read in one of my magazines that a man doesn’t necessarily respect a woman who responds to late-night booty calls.”

She was teasing. The tension in his chest eased. “How do you know this is a booty call?”

“Hmmm. I guess maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

His heart sped up in his chest. “We can talk about Traci,” he said. “And California.”

She giggled. “Oh don’t worry. We will. Probably afterward but definitely before I tell you where I hid your pants.”

Ten minutes later, he knocked on her door. She opened it, gave him a look of mock confusion, and said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were my Uber driver.”

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Some place very fancy. Very expensive. Fourteen-dollar glasses of wine.”

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. She looked good. She was wearing blue-and-white-striped pajama pants and a small, strappy blue shirt. No bra. “Those kind of places have a dress code,” he said.

“No worries. I’ve got a little black dress laid out on my bed.” She leaned in and kissed him. “I missed you,” she said. “How’s the case?”

“Frustrating.” She wouldn’t expect any details.