“What about your son?” Mendez asked, thinking of Vince’s theory that Darren Bordain may have resented his mother’s relationship with Marissa Fordham. “How did he feel about that relationship? Your wife made mention Marissa was the daughter she never had.”

“Why would Darren care about that? He had to be glad for the distraction on Milo’s part. The more time she spent with Marissa, the less time she spent smothering him.”

“How well did you know Marissa?” Mendez asked.

Bordain shrugged. “Well enough to have a conversation with her. It’s god-awful what happened. Do you have any idea who did it? Do we have another Peter Crane running around?”

“We don’t think so,” Dixon said.

“And the little girl? Has she said anything? Milo said you think she may have seen the killer. Has she named anyone?”

“Not yet,” Mendez said. “The woman taking care of her has training in child psychology. She’ll try to draw the memories out.”

“She’s what? Four years old?” Bordain said. “How reliable can she be? She could say anything. She could name someone just to make an adult happy that she answered the question.”

“Anne knows what she’s doing,” Dixon said. “She’ll be very careful in how she goes about it. And of course no one would be convicted on the testimony of a child alone. There has to be evidence to back it up.”

“And then what will happen to her?”

“We’re trying to find relatives,” Mendez said.

“Milo has it in her head she should have the kid. She’s fretting about it constantly.”

“It’s best that the girl is where she is right now,” Dixon said.

“Do you think you could arrange a visit, Cal?” Bordain asked. “Milo is beside herself with everything that’s happened. It would cheer her up to see the girl. She’s the closest thing to a grandchild Milo is going to have any time soon. Darren is still happily playing the field.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dixon said, noncommittal.

“It would mean a lot,” Bordain said, getting up. “It could be worth, say, some new piece of equipment the sheriff’s office needs.”

He smiled again like the Cheshire Cat.

“I’ll give that some thought,” Dixon said.

“Let me know.”

He reached out and shook Dixon’s hand again, then turned to Mendez.

“Detective Mendez. Think about that golf game. I have a standing tee time at the Oaks country club. You should come.”

“At the Oaks,” Mendez said as Bordain disappeared down the hall. “I should come as what? His caddy?”

“I’m sure he pays well,” Dixon said.

“He just offered you a bribe.”

“Yes, he did.”

Mendez thought about it for a moment. “Do you think he’d spring for a thermographic camera?”

Dixon chuckled and waved him toward the door. “Don’t you have a murder to solve?”

Chapter 57

57

You can’t pass out, G.

I know.

If you pass out, you’ll fall. If you fall back down, you’ll die in here.

I know. I’m not stupid.