“You don’t think so? Funny, most people pick us out as brothers right away. But I agree with you. I don’t see it. After all, I’m much more handsome than he is.”

Lucy grinned. “Well, you’re right about that.”

“Now, Katie and I, we were practically twins,” Frost went on.

“Do you have a picture of her?”

Frost slid his phone across the bench to Lucy. He reached over and tapped the digits to unlock it so she could see the photo of him and Katie that he used as his screen saver. The picture showed the two of them at Alcatraz on a perfect summer day, with the city and the bay waters behind them and an endless California sky overhead. Her hair was sunny blond. Her head leaned into his shoulder.

“Wow, she was pretty,” Lucy said. “And yes, you two definitely could have been twins.”

“Thanks.”

Shack nudged the door of the carrier with his paw, demanding more syrup, and Lucy obliged. She dabbed a little on his pink nose, and Shack used his tongue to clean it. Frost found himself staring at Lucy, and he knew she was aware of his eyes. Her cheeks blushed red. She had a shy contentment in her face, looking back at him and then looking away. He knew the signs when a relationship with a stranger was on the brink of becoming something deeper. Her glow sent him a romantic invitation: come get me.

What Frost couldn’t tell her was that he felt a completely different emotion when he was with her. He missed his baby sister. Something about being with Lucy made Katie feel not so far away.

“There’s a reason I wanted you to know about the song,” he said.

Lucy sighed as he steered their conversation away from personal things. “To scare the crap out of me?”

“Sort of, yes. These incidents didn’t happen by accident. The jukebox in the bar last night is controlled by a phone app, and someone hacked the app to play that song. I called the DJ who did the music at the wedding where Monica Farr died. He said someone in the crowd requested ‘Nightingale.’”

“What about Brynn on the bridge?” Lucy asked.

“Someone posted a request for the song on the radio station’s Facebook page. Take a look.”

He’d saved the post on his phone, and he showed it to Lucy. Her smooth forehead crinkled as she spotted the name of the user behind the post.

“The Night Bird?” she asked.

“That’s right. Does the name mean anything to you? Have you heard it before?”

“No, never. What does this mean, Frost?”

“It means that what happened to Brynn and these other women was murder. Someone targeted them.”

“Now you really are scaring me,” Lucy said.