“Your girl is lucky to have you. So damn lucky,” she said. She spun around fast and walked away, before Becca had a chance to say anything else.

Becca was grateful to Raya for trying, but she wasn’t holding her breath that this lead would pan out. She raced across the street to Christian, who was leaning against the black SUV.

“We gotta roll. One of my buddies, a patrolman in Hollywood, said that a girl matching Ash’s description with a dog came into one of the shops a few hours ago. Pawned some pearls and an engagement ring.”

Becca let out a ragged sigh. This was the break they needed. Hopefully by dinner they’d have tracked Ash down. She closed her eyes, thinking about Ash and Freud curled up on the sofa, binge watching The Voice and eating McConnell’s Salted Caramel Chip ice cream. Getting her second wind, Becca climbed into the passenger’s seat. Christian drove, speeding toward the freeway.

“That girl… is she okay?” Christian asked.

This was another thing she’d always loved about Christian. He really cared.

“She’s schizophrenic with no support system so she’s definitely not okay,” Becca said, knowing confidentiality rules prevented her from saying more. Christian understood, already changing the subject. “I got a hit back on Nate Sutton. He managed to escape custody before his trial. It’s been almost a year and a half. Cops have a warrant for his arrest. I put out a BOLO on both Nate and Ash.” BOLO meant “be on the lookout.”

Becca let out a ragged sigh. In response, Christian squeezed Becca’s hand. The gesture was so familiar and natural, and somehow made her feel lonelier than ever. She quickly pulled away, unable to tolerate the silence, but lacking the energy for small talk. She grabbed her phone and scrolled through it, searching for the playlist Ash made her. When Ash first talked about her love of country music, Becca thought she was kidding. Ash wasn’t. She took her love of country music seriously. “My grandpa listened to it. He was real old school. Educated me on all the greats: George Jones, Patsy Cline, Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash.”

Becca was an LA girl. She grew up on rock and roll, going to shows at the Viper Room and Whisky a Go Go. She’d always avoided listening to country. Under Ash’s tutelage, Becca’s appreciation for this music grew. Patsy Cline’s “Walkin’ after Midnight” began to play and Becca smiled, remembering last Christmas when Becca surprised Ash with a karaoke machine, the two of them singing this song at the top of their lungs. She wanted more than anything to be back there.