He’d looked me over before taking a chair. “Vaseline?” he asked.

“I am thinking it must be something sexual,” Mrs. Apusenja said. “No one has told me otherwise. I am thinking this one must be a slut.”

“I am not a slut,” I said. “I had to capture a guy who was all greased up and some of the gunk rubbed off on me.”

The back door burst open and Vinnie came in like gangbusters, followed by Lula.

“Talk to me,” Vinnie said to Connie.

“Not much to tell. You remember Mrs. Apusenja and her daughter Nonnie. Samuel Singh rented a room in the Apusenja house and they were at the photo session last week. They haven’t seen him in five days.”

“Christ,” Vinnie said. “National print coverage on this. A week to go. And this sonovabitch goes missing. Why didn’t he just come over to my house and feed me rat poison? It would have been an easier death.”

“We think there might be foul play involved,” Nonnie said.

Vinnie made a halfhearted effort to squash a grimace. “Yeah, right. Give me a refresher course on Samuel Singh. What was his normal routine?” Vinnie had the file in his hand, flipping pages, mumbling as he read. “It says here he worked at TriBro Tech. He was in the quality control department.”

“During the week Samuel would be at work from seven-thirty to five. Every night he would stay home and watch television or spend time on his computer. Even on weekends he would spend most of his time on the computer,” Nonnie said.

“There is a word to call him,” Mrs. Apusenja said. “I can never remember.”

“Geek,” Nonnie said, not looking all that happy about it.

“Yes! That’s it. He was a computer geek.”

“Did he have friends? Relatives in the area?” Vinnie asked.

“There were people at his workplace that he spoke of but he didn’t spend time with them socially.”

“Did he have enemies? Debts?”

Nonnie shook her head no. “He never spoke of debts or enemies.”

“Drugs?” Vinnie asked.

“No. And he would drink alcohol only on special occasions.”

“How about criminal activity? Was he involved with anyone shady?”

“Certainly not.”

Ranger was impassive in his corner, watching the women. Nonnie was leaning forward in her chair, uncomfortable with the situation. Mama Apusenja had her lips pressed tight together, her head tipped slightly, not favorably impressed with what she was seeing.

“Anything else?” Vinnie asked.

Nonnie fidgeted in her seat. Her eyes dropped to the purse in her lap. “My little dog,” Nonnie finally said. “My little dog is missing.” She opened her purse and extracted a photo. “His name is Boo because he is so white. Like a ghost. He disappeared when Samuel vanished. He was in the backyard, which is fenced, and he disappeared.”

We all looked at the photo of Nonnie and Boo. Boo was a small cocker spaniel and poodle mix with black button eyes in a fluffy white face. Boo was a cockapoo.