“And you’ve inquired of his employer?”

I think up a serviceable fib in seconds. “Martin had been doing business with insurance companies, but he came upon a new venture with hair tonic. He was selling it. On the road.”

“Any friends here in the city we can ask? Any clubs your husband belongs to? Places he frequented?”

I shake my head. “Martin is a private person. When he’s not on the road he likes to be home. And we’ve been in San Francisco less than two years. He didn’t have close friends here.”

“All right, then,” the officer says. “I’ll just need the address where you are staying and we’ll be done here.”

I give him the address of the Loralei, glad to be finished, eager to leave.

He stands and points toward Libby. “If you’ll just take a seat with your friend, I’ll see if Detective Morris wants to chat with you.”

“Detective Morris?” I stand as well, and my heart takes a stutter step.

“He’s handling most of the cases like this. If your husband is truly missing, and not just wounded or deceased, he could have been the victim of foul play, especially since you expected him home. There were a great many unsavory types out and about after the quake, I’m sorry to say.”

“Oh, but the detective needn’t take up my burden today if there are so many others.”

The officer’s brows furrow themselves into a crinkle. “I would think you’d want him to hop right on it.”

“Y-yes! I do,” I stammer. “I am just mindful of others who came in before me.”

He smiles and pats my arm. “If Detective Morris is not busy, he’ll want to talk with you. Especially since you’re not staying in the city.”

He leads me back to Libby, and I sit down next her. The officer walks away with all the information I gave him in his hand.

“I have to stay for a bit,” I tell her. “You don’t need to wait here with me. I don’t know how long it will take. It’s so busy in here.”

Libby reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Of course I will stay. Chester hasn’t even come for me yet. I’ll stay.”

“But Timmy—”

“Timmy is with a nanny. We’re renting a house near the Whittier Mansion over by the academy—which didn’t burn, thank heaven. It’s a sweet little place and the nanny lives with us. He’ll be fine. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you here alone, Sophie. What of kind of neighbor would I be?”

A smile forms at the corners of my mouth. I am thinking how little she understands what I am capable of handling, and she is thinking how grateful I am that she is staying with me.

“Do the police know something?” she asks. “Is that why they’ve asked you to wait?”

“No. The detective looking into cases of missing people might want to speak with me because I live outside the city now.”