They drove in silence for another forty-five minutes, with only the one country radio station to listen to. Ninety minutes after they’d left Dani’s house, Ivy pulled into the medical complex. Dani directed her around the extensive parking lot and to a spot near a sleek building made of glass and chrome.

“Must be some kind of specialist,” Ivy said.

“They’re the best in the region.” Dani got out of the car and closed the door, signaling she had no more to say.

Ivy followed her inside and up a bank of elevators to the third floor. Dani removed her dark glasses and easily located the practice’s door, and they entered the plush waiting room. The walls were painted a pulsating blue, and the chairs were upholstered in vibrant reds. “It’s a cheerful place.”

“They believe in the power of color,” Dani said.

“We eat with our eyes first.”

“Something like that.”

Ivy noted the nice coffee maker, the stack of magazines, and the television broadcasting the weather station’s prediction of sunny skies.

Dani walked up to the receptionist. “I’m Dani Manchester, and I’m here for my appointment with Dr. Zacharias.”

The receptionist smiled. “Yes, we have you here. Have a seat, and the nurse will be out for you in a moment.”

“Thanks.”

Ivy made herself a cup of coffee and offered it to Dani, who declined. She added two sugars and a cream and picked up a copy of the latest Bon Appétit. “Nice setup.”

“Sometimes the appointments can take a couple of hours, so they like family to be comfortable.”

“Will this take a couple of hours?” She’d banked on being gone five hours, which she hoped would not exceed Libby’s maximum bladder time.

“This shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”

“No rush. If we run long, I can text Dalton and ask him to let Libby out.”

“It won’t take that long,” Dani said with determined certainty.

Ivy sipped her coffee and was turning to the magazine’s title page when the nurse called Dani’s name. Without fanfare, Dani vanished down the hallway.

She shifted her attention to a brochure detailing the practice’s mission statement, the list of their services, and the practitioners. She keyed in on Dr. Zacharias. Tall, with olive skin and a bright-white smile, he looked to be midforties. No wedding band. Dr. Hottie treated all forms of eye disease that extended beyond the average ophthalmologist’s reach. “Stigma, my ass.”

Ivy returned to the stylized platter of pasta with a red sauce, sprinkled with basil and flanked by a loaf of crusty bread. It looked nice, but she’d have done better.

She moved through the pages, pausing when she got to a restaurant profile of a former competitor. Luigi’s was located down the block from Vincenzo’s, and the two crews knew each other well and enjoyed a friendly rivalry.