“Sorry to trouble you, sir,” Morrow said, taking the lead. “We’re looking for your neighbors, Lamont and Ellen Hagen. Would you know where they are?”

The older man’s eyes skipped to each of them, his jaw clenched. “Who are you?”

Badges were produced, IDs conveyed. The man scratched his head. “Well, they left on a vacation to Canada and Alaska several days ago.”

“Did they leave you a contact number?” Morrow asked.

“Hang on. Dottie!” the man called, and a woman, also in her seventies, appeared, assessing everyone as her husband explained.

“Ellen gave me a number. I’ll get it,” she said.

“Might be hard to reach them,” the man said. “They flew to Montana or Alberta, not sure. Then they were supposed to rent an RV and drive to Alaska, so the phone might not work if they’re in the mountains.”

“Here it is.” The woman gave Morrow a slip of paper.

“Thank you.” Morrow pressed the number into her phone, then, without stepping away, held it to her ear.

“Does a little boy live with them?” Cruz asked.

“Yes. Lucas, their grandson. He’s five,” the woman said.

“Do you know if they traveled with him?” Cruz asked.

“Yes, they took him on their trip.”

Morrow was listening and watching as her call rang several times.

“Do you know why Lucas has been living with them?” Cruz asked.

“Not really. They’re fairly private,” the woman said.

“Well, Lamont once told me they had some sort of tragedy with their son and his ex-wife,” the man said, “and that’s why they have custody of the boy.”

Morrow ended the call, shaking her head.

“I couldn’t reach them,” Morrow said. “What sort of tragedy?”

“I don’t know,” the man said. “Lamont didn’t get into details.”

“Would you know if the Hagens are familiar with Clete Loften or Maylene Marie Siler?” Morrow said. “Do those names ring any bells?”

The man stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head as the woman shook hers. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

“Just checking a few things,” Morrow said. “Have the Hagens always lived in Florida?”

“No, no, they retired here a few years ago,” the man said. “They’re from Boston. Lamont was in insurance, and she was a teacher.”

“Boston?” Morrow repeated, thinking, turning to Cruz and Reddick in case they had questions.

“Can we get your full names and contact information?” Cruz said.

After they took down their information and passed cards to them, Morrow said, “If you hear from the Hagens, tell them we’d like to talk to them.”

“We will,” the man said.

The investigators were halfway down the driveway to their cars when the man followed them.

“Agent Morrow! My wife just told me to let you know that the boy, Lucas, isn’t from Boston.”

“Where’s he from?”

“She thinks that Ellen once said he and his mother were from Cleveland.”

“Cleveland?”