I sent up a brief but fervent prayer on behalf of Yancy Thigpen, hoping that she would soon be found, safe and unharmed.

My mood somber, I locked the porch door and walked slowly up to my bed.

TWENTY-NINE

I had a distinct sense of déjà vu the next morning when the phone rang a few minutes after seven and Kanesha was on the other end.

“Good morning, Deputy. What can I do for you?”

Kanesha sounded tired when she answered. “Sorry to bother you again so early, but I need to talk to you. All right if I drop by?”

“I’m up and dressed, so come on by as soon as you like.” I still had a nearly full pot of coffee, too, and I figured she could use some.

“Be there in less than ten.” She ended the call.

“We’ve got company coming.” I looked down at Diesel. The cat chirped at me and then went back to washing his left front leg.

I fetched a clean mug from the cabinet for Kanesha and set it by the coffeepot. Before I could pick up my own cup for a sip, my cell phone interrupted me.

“Good morning, Melba,” I said, feeling a bit guilty that I hadn’t called her yesterday afternoon to check on her. “How are you doing?”

“As well as could be expected,” she said. “Look, is it okay if I come on over? I know you’re usually up early, even on a Sunday morning, and I’d like to talk to you about Carrie.”

“Sure, you know you’re always welcome. But Kanesha called just before you did, and she’s on her way here, too.”

“That’s fine,” Melba said. “I need to talk to her anyway. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good.” I put my cell phone away. “Diesel, guess who’s coming now? Your buddy Melba.”

He recognized the name, and he warbled several times. He stopped washing himself and wandered out of the kitchen. He was headed for the front door to wait for Melba, but Kanesha would arrive first.

Hard upon that thought came the sound of the doorbell. I hurried to the front door to admit Kanesha, first telling the cat that this wouldn’t be his buddy. Diesel meowed and moved aside.

“Morning,” Kanesha said as she stepped inside.

“Come on out to the kitchen. I have fresh coffee waiting.”

“Wonderful, thanks.”

I could hear the tiredness in only those few words. I wondered if she’d had any chance to rest in the past twenty-four hours. I debated asking her, but she could be so prickly at times. Instead I poured the coffee and handed her the mug. She sank into a chair and rested her elbows on the table while she sipped.

“Rough night?” I asked, figuring that was safe enough as a conversation starter. I took a chair across from her.