McAdams said, “Then you’re going to call them?”

“Once I find out all there is to know about Corbett, I can talk to them with more authority. They’re a good bet to locate Bertram and friends.”

“And how is visiting an estranged sister going to help us find out about Pauline Corbett?”

“I’m hoping they weren’t always estranged. Pauline is our victim, and I need to know all I can about her.”

“How’s that going to help us find Schulung?”

“It might not. And while Elsie Schulung is at the top of our list, I can’t have tunnel vision. It’s possible that talking to her sister will lead us down a different avenue of inquiry.”

McAdams nodded and stowed his phone. He had turned quiet.

Decker said, “What is it now?”

“I hate when I’m a petty asshole. I don’t know what comes over me sometimes.”

“We all have our egos.”

“I just get in these moods. You can blame that on my prefrontal cortex as well.”

“Or maybe you’re just an asshole,” Decker said.

McAdams laughed. “Watch your mouth, old man, or you’ll be riding coach on the way home.”

DECKER GRINNED. “THAT’S my girl!”

“Who?” McAdams asked. “The waving maniac at the end of the staircase?”

“It is she.”

Trim and fit, Marge was wearing jeans, a white blouse, and beaded sandals on her feet.

Decker waved back. “She looks great!”

“Seeing as I have no basis for comparison, I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

“Tyler—”

“I’ll be charming, don’t worry.” McAdams watched as Decker and she embraced in a big hug worthy of pre-COVID days.

“Look at you,” Decker said. “I like your hair.”

“Do you?” Marge preened.

“Yes, I do. It’s very youthful.”

“Will thinks it’s too short, but he likes the color. I’ll take one out of two.” Marge faced McAdams. “You must be the kid that this guy is always raving about.”

“And you must be the partner to whom I can never measure up.” McAdams stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Marge hooked her arm around Decker. “You didn’t tell me he was so cute.”

“You think?” Decker said.

Marge hit him. She looked at her watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon. “When are you going back?”

“Ten p.m. red-eye out of LAX,” McAdams said.

“We should be up there around three-thirty, four. Maybe an hour to interview.” She thought. “We can maybe squeeze in an early dinner. Do you have any luggage?”

“Just carry-on,” Decker said. “And we’re first class.”

“Wow!” Marge whistled. “How’d you pull that one off?”

“He didn’t,” McAdams said. “But I did.”