He sat forward a little. “What makes you think the skeleton in the slough is this person McBee?”

“There were three,” she said, peering into her teacup. “Only three men who went missing. It was children mostly.”

“The other two were black, weren’t they?” Susan said. “McBee was white.”

Gloria turned and looked at the TV. It was a different photograph of Patrick Lifton now. A snapshot of him with his arms wrapped around a black Labrador retriever.

Gloria looked concerned. “That poor boy. Did he drown?”

“No,” Archie said.

“Is he your son?” she asked.

The question startled Archie. “No,” he said. “He’s missing. We’re looking for him.”

She was twisting the bottom of her cardigan around her fingers. She stopped and folded her hands in her lap and looked off toward the door, like she was expecting someone.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Larson?” Susan asked.

Gloria looked at Susan and smiled. “I went to watch them float the Fremont Bridge in yesterday,” she said. “We packed a lunch and took the children. They floated the whole center piece down the river on a barge and lifted it into place. It was marvelous.”

“That was in 1973,” Archie said to Susan.

His phone rang. It was Flannigan. This exercise appeared to be about over anyway. “Excuse me,” he said, picking up the call.

“Hey,” Archie said to Flannigan. “What’s up?”

“It’s Carter,” Flannigan said. “That National Guard soldier. He’s dead.”

“Are you married?” Gloria asked him.

Archie plugged his free ear and turned away from her. Carter? Dead? They had just seen him, hadn’t they? “What happened?” he asked Flannigan.

Flannigan sighed. “He wasn’t responding to his radio, so they went looking for him. Found him facedown near the fire station on the east bank. There’s a mark. But not on his hands. It’s on his face.”

Archie should have closed down the waterfront. Screw the seawall. He should have gotten everyone out of there. Let the whole city flood. It was just property. “I’ll be right down,” Archie said.

He hung up.

Susan had paled. “What’s going on?”

“I will find him,” Archie said on the TV. “I. Will. Find. Him.”

They had taken separate cars.

“Carter’s dead,” Archie said. “You should go home.”

Susan’s brow knitted. She swallowed hard. “I have work to do,” she said. “I need more quotes. I have to fact-check.”

Archie caught her gaze. “Stay away from the river, okay?”

She nodded.

He stood. “I have to go,” he said to Gloria. “Thanks for the tea.” He had yet to take a sip.

“Are you?” Gloria asked again. “Married?”

“I’m divorced,” Archie said.

“Have you ever had an affair?”

“Only one,” Archie said.

Gloria lowered her chin girlishly, her white hair falling around her face. “I’ve had more than that,” she said.

Chapter 42

CHAPTER

42