The handmade Valentine poster made by Frank’s boys, the posters of European soccer players, the tiny desk with its clutter of magazines and laptop computer all remained as Pike remembered. The screen saver was still playing—a young Hawaiian surf stud riding a wave that swallowed him, only to be resurrected and swallowed again in an endless loop. Pike closed the screen, unplugged the power cord, and placed the computer by the door. He searched through the drawers and clutter, hoping for some kind of address book or cell phone, but found neither. Instead, he found a high school yearbook and some birthday and holiday cards. He put the cards in the yearbook, and the yearbook with the computer.

Pike was bothered by the absence of a phone. He looked under and around the desk, then pulled a mound of sheets and a comforter from the bed. He found rumpled clothes, two open boxes of cookies, an open box of Pampers, some magazines, three partially consumed bottles of water, a paperback novel about vampires, an unopened bag of Peanut M&M’s, and a single unused tampon still in its wrapper. He found the messy clutter of a young woman who liked to shove everything in the corner, but no phone. Pike lifted the mattress. Nothing.

Pike realized he had not found a purse or wallet, either. It occurred to him that her phone had probably been in her purse, and the paramedics might have taken her purse along when they rushed her to the hospital. Pike made a mental note to tell Cole. Cole could check to see if this was what happened, and whether or not the hospital still had the purse in their possession.

The tiny room held a closet smaller than a phone booth. The bathroom was across the hall. Pike went through the closet first, then the bath. The closet floor was deep with clothes, shoes, and an empty backpack. A corkboard had been tacked to the inside of the door and was covered with snapshots, cards, pictures cut from magazines, ticket stubs, and drawings. Ana was in most of the pictures, but not all, posing with people her own age, everyone smiling or mugging for the camera. Most of them had probably been taken in the past couple of years, and a few had writing. Luv, Krissy. You da bomb! BFF! Like that.

Pike didn’t take them all. He selected pictures that appeared the most recent, and those with handwritten notes and names, and tucked them into the yearbook. He had just crossed the hall into the bathroom when he heard a car door. He picked up the computer and yearbook, hurried to the front of the house, and saw two unmarked Crown Vics. Terrio and Deets were already out of their car, and two more detectives were climbing out of the second car. Terrio and Deets went to Pike’s Jeep, then scowled toward the house.