“This way,” Alastair said, leading Duckworth deeper into the house. He opened an oak door to a study. A desk dominated the room. Bookshelves, completely jammed, lined two walls. One wall was mostly window that looked out onto a treed backyard, and the final wall was reserved for framed photos and diplomas and various awards. There was one chair behind the desk, and another in front of it.

“Have a seat,” Alastair said. Duckworth sat. “Now what’s your business with my son?”

“When did you last see Cory?”

“I asked you what your business was with him.”

“And I asked you when you last saw him.”

Alastair Calder pursed his lips and drew in air through his nose. “Some time yesterday, I believe. We don’t check in with each other.”

“But you did say he lives here.”

“Yes.

“Who else lives here?”

“No one.”

“Just you and your son.”

“That’s what I said.” He sighed. “My wife died three years ago. We had two other children. They’re both married. My son is in Tokyo, researching ways to turn ocean water into drinking water. My daughter is a doctor. She’s in Europe, assisting in the refugee crisis, which is never-ending.”

“And Cory? What does he do?”

“He lives here,” Alastair said, a hint of contempt in his voice. “What do you want with him?”

“Do you know Dolores Guntner?”

His eyes widened. “Dolly?”

Duckworth smiled. “Yes.”

“Yes, I know her,” he said with a disapproving shake of the head. “My son is old enough to choose his own girlfriends, I am afraid.”

“So Dolores, she’s been seeing your son?”

“For some time, yes. Is this about Dolores? What’s she done? It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she was up to no good. Do you know where she works?”

“A tattoo parlor.”

“Exactly. What else do I have to say? What’s she done?”

“She got herself killed, Mr. Calder.”

He sat upright in his chair. “She what?”

“She’s dead, sir.”

His face fell. “Dear God, what on earth happened?”

“Her death is being treated as a homicide.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“So I’m speaking with anyone who knew her. I’m told your son was her boyfriend, so he’d be at the top of the list of people I need to talk to.”

“You can’t think he’d have anything to do with this. He’s got his flaws, but he wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“But he may know something that would help me in my investigation. So let me ask you again. Do you know where he is?”

“I . . . don’t.”

“Do you anticipate him coming back any time soon?”

“I really have no idea.”

“You seemed to suggest earlier he doesn’t have a job.”

“Not . . . not currently.”

“I need you to call him and find out where he is. He must have a cell phone.”

“He does.”