“Three years after his wife disappeared, Allen Hicks got a Mexican divorce. He remarried, got divorced again and then married a third time.” She looked up at Corey. “Clearly the guy wasn’t exactly distraught over losing his wife.”

She clicked on the next story link and skimmed it quickly. “Allen Hicks retired to North Carolina and died in 2009.”

“Which still leaves the question of whatever happened to Colleen,” Corey said. “Is she dead or alive?”

“And what, if any, is the connection to my dad?”

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

“I did. He denied that there was any real connection.”

“Just level with him,” Corey said, shaking his head impatiently. “Tell him you found the old police files up in the attic—in a box of his stuff.”

“I can’t,” Drue insisted. “He’s not just my dad, he’s also my boss. It would be like I was accusing him of something dishonest at best and criminal at worst. I can’t say anything to him. Not until I have some kind of proof.”

“Proof of what? That he had something to do with this Colleen Hicks person?”

“Both that and whatever was going on at the Gulf Vista,” Drue said. “Look, we know that the female housekeepers at that hotel were the victims of sexual harassment. We’re pretty sure that whoever killed Jazmin was someone who knew her. If we could just figure out who killed her, then maybe we’d be able to get to the bottom of this whole thing. I can’t help but wonder if my dad or somebody at the law firm took a payoff or something.”

“And what happens if you discover your dad, and the law firm, is completely innocent? No cover-up, no bribe, but also no money for Jazmin’s mom?”

“Then I’ll let it go,” Drue vowed.

Corey cocked a dubious eyebrow.

“I will. I swear it.”

When she was alone again, Drue considered the flip side of the question Corey had asked.

What if she actually uncovered evidence that her father or somebody at the law firm had betrayed their client? Or worse—that Brice was involved in Colleen Hicks’ disappearance. What would she do then? How far was she prepared to take this quest for justice? She had no answer.

42

After Corey left, Drue took a glass of wine and walked down to the beach to watch the sunset. The damp sand felt cool beneath her feet, and the breeze off the water ruffled the sea oats on the dune that separated her backyard from the abbreviated seawall. At the last minute, deep-purple-tinged clouds drifted across the horizon, obscuring her view. She glanced up and down the beach, looking for “her” blue heron, but the only birds in sight were a group of sanderlings, skimming in and out of the shallow wavelets lapping at the shore.