“Just remember I’m still trying to make you something official,” Ryder said. “And remember we have a constitution and a bill of rights and—”

“Yeah, yeah. I still want to know where a few people might be right now. And I have friends who know how to do things carefully and correctly,” Dan said.

Ryder nodded.

They were both quiet as they drove to the station. When they arrived, Dan lingered outside, pulling out his phone and started dialing.

Corey Crest was one of the finest investigators Dan had ever met. He was still with the FDLE, and while he never went out in the field, he was probably one of the most useful men who had ever worked for any kind of law enforcement.

He was a genius at finding people—and finding out about them.

He had apparently seen the news already. And he had been expecting a call from Dan.

“I’m on it,” he assured him. “I’ll find George Calabria for you.”

“Not just him, Corey, if you don’t mind. See if you can find out anything at all about the couple that was supposedly on the boat when the murders took place down in the Keys. Dr. Neil Browne and his girlfriend, Jennie. All we knew was they were friends of the Calabria couple from somewhere up north.” He hesitated. “Their bodies were never found, and no one could ever find out if Dr. Neil Browne was even real. We put out a search for them back then, but we didn’t have a last name for Jennie, and you’d be amazed at just how many men have the name Neil Browne.”

“Right. I remember. Hey, half the guys who investigated back then think they might have been imaginary friends. There was no record of them anywhere.”

“Browne was probably using an assumed name.”

“And Calabria claimed that—whoever they were—they have to be remnants in the ocean by now. Bits of bone, if that. Sea creatures can do a number, along with storms, the passage of time...”

“Corey,” Dan said.

“I’m on it. I’m on it.” He was silent a minute. “And I’m glad you are, too. Dan, you’re too good, too smart, too valuable to be running around after skirt-chasers or the like.”

“Yeah, well...”

“Anyway, I’ll get you whatever I can.”

“Thanks.”

They ended the call, and Dan headed into the station, waving to the desk sergeant and then weaving his way toward Ryder’s office.

He paused outside a general-interview room. Through the open door, Dan could see an officer, who he knew as Stanley, and a woman seated in the chair before his desk. The young woman was leaning toward the officer and speaking passionately.

Dan didn’t know her personally, but he recognized her instantly.

Because he had seen her before. Not here, not in New Orleans.

Back in Orlando.