As for hair, fiber and trace, Bogan and Cruz said that analysis had determined that some of Warren’s hair was found in Loften’s unit and some of his was found in hers. There was no evidence in either unit to indicate a struggle or attack.

“So far, it’s loosely consistent with Loften’s account and his claim of a consensual sexual relationship,” Bogan said. “However, one outstanding avenue: late yesterday, we obtained the warrants for us to open up Warren’s cell phone and laptop. Our digital-forensics unit started working on it this morning and expects to have something for us soon.”

That might sound hopeful, Morrow thought, but her gut told her something was slipping away. As Bogan and Cruz continued the meeting with the status of tips—most were not valid—and recanvassing, Morrow forced herself to accept a cold, hard fact. So far, the evidence did not strengthen their case against Loften. If anything, it weakened it.

They had little on Loften that was substantial for a prosecutor.

And it hit her like a gut punch, a painful reminder never to get tunnel vision and become blind to other possibilities. At the same time, Morrow was angry at the outrage against Warren, dumped in a lonely stretch of dirt. She thought of those stomach-churning autopsy photos; then she thought of the tragedy visited upon Warren’s little boy, who’d already lost his father, and her heart broke for the child.

Morrow tried to concentrate on her work. Flipping through her notes, she came to a section she’d underlined. Something Loften had said about how Warren had come from Cleveland, wanting a job in the Miami office of Asgaard so she could regain custody of her son. How she’d thought she could lean on this guy she knew from Cleveland. I guess she had a little thing with him in the past.

Well, that could be Jeff Taylor who’d recently moved from Cleveland.

They’d talked to Taylor—he’d admitted knowing Warren and having had contact with her in Miami.

Maylene Marie Siler’s homicide was in Cleveland.

Again, Cleveland, Cleveland, Cleveland.

Have we been looking in the wrong direction with Loften?

“Really? Let’s put it up,” Bogan said, pulling Morrow from her thoughts.

“This just came in. Miami PD followed up a tip about a woman thought to be Vida Warren arguing with a man at a café at Bayside, at Romero Sunrise. The owners volunteered security footage—here it is.”

The footage rolled on the room’s large screen, showing two people at a table, when suddenly the man grabbed the woman, jerking her wrist so her sunglasses and hat fell off.

“That’s her.” Cruz’s eyes darted from her laptop to the big screen. “That’s Vida Warren.”