“She will be,” Holmes said, digging into his second plate. “Thank you for this. I haven’t eaten anything since last night. Except airline peanuts.”

“Pah.” Irina shook her head. “Traveling is hard enough without the airlines starving the passengers.”

“Sitting in economy is worse. I’m still sore from having my knees in my chin for seven hours.” He ate the second helping more slowly, looking around the table. “Hey. I’m André.”

Rafe did the introductions. “This is Gideon’s girlfriend, Daisy Dawson; my father, Karl; and my sister Sasha. Where is Erin?”

“She went outside to check with the agents,” Irina told him. “She wants to know when they’re changing shifts so that she can supervise.”

That made sense, Rafe thought gratefully. Erin paid attention to details like that. “Erin’s my partner on the force. You can meet her later.”

“André, we were hoping to ask you some questions, when you’re finished eating,” Gideon said.

“Go ahead and ask now. I’m used to eating around conversations.” André’s chuckle was subdued. “I’m marrying into Farrah’s family. They . . . well, they talk a lot.”

“I knew she and I were sisters of different misters,” Sasha said lightly, and then her shoulders sagged. “I’m so sorry about her aunt. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I’m surprised that it took us so long to find her, honestly.” André nodded his thanks to Irina when she placed a plate of freshly baked bread at his elbow. The kitchen counters were filled with baked goods, marinating meats, and finished casseroles. It smelled like home should smell. “The Romeros are very close. That she didn’t show up for Mercy’s going-away breakfast should have raised red flags with all of us, but she’d texted the night before that she had already invited a friend over and didn’t want to be rude. She said she’d forgotten about having plans. None of her friends showed up, or they would have found her sooner. Her killer might have sent the text himself. We didn’t think a thing about it because Quill was getting forgetful and she’d said her goodbyes to Mercy on Friday afternoon. Mercy stayed with Farrah at the Romeros’ overnight on Friday,” he explained. “That way they could have breakfast with the family before heading out to the airport.”

“How did you discover her?” Rafe asked.

“Anonymous phone call,” André said, then raised a brow. “Made from a phone here in Sacramento.”

Everyone at the table stared at him in surprise. “Where in Sacramento?” Gideon asked.

“Near a place called Carmichael. Probably a burner phone.”

Rafe and Gideon shared a puzzled glance. “Burton wouldn’t have called to report a murder he did,” Rafe said, as sure of that as he was of his own name. “Can we listen to the 911 call?”

“Yep. Thought you might want to hear it. The call came in at about three thirty central time this morning, so one thirty A.M. here.” André pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen, and a high-pitched, nervous voice began to speak. The caller was young. Male. And he sounded nothing like Ephraim Burton’s growl.