No, it was better to be here.

“I need a room,” she said. “For two nights . . . possibly three.”

“A double-double?” the receptionist asked and slipped on half-glasses as she started keying in the request on an aging computer.

“Sure. Whatever.” Charity was going to elaborate that it was just her, but held her tongue, signed in, and got the key for a room on the second floor that turned out to be just what she expected: two beds with garish spreads, matching curtains, a desk on which a small flat-screen TV was mounted, and a closet without a door. The bathroom was tiny, but clean enough. And there was Wi-Fi, which she didn’t trust, but she didn’t have to. She’d brought her own hot spot with her.

Weary as she was, she spent the next half hour unpacking, setting up her laptop, and creating a work area.

Satisfied, she thought about tumbling into bed, but her stomach was rumbling, so she went downstairs, out the front door, and across four lanes of traffic to a diner that advertised “fresh made” pies and an “all you can eat” buffet 24/7. It wasn’t much and basically gourmet-negative, but it would have to do. She grabbed a breakfast sandwich to go, brought it back to the hotel room, scarfed it down, then took a quick shower and tumbled into one of the sagging double beds to catch up on a few hours of sleep, after which she would start her investigation. She’d spent most of the trip south thinking about how to tackle the Cahill family and had decided to start by visiting Cahill House, the home for pregnant teens, then drive to the family estate. Once she’d cased the place, she would try to contact friends and acquaintances who knew James. After that, it was Megan’s turn. The missing woman’s mother still lived in the area.

So far, Lenora Travers hadn’t returned her calls.

No worries about that. Thanks to the Internet and Charity’s well-honed detective skills, she knew exactly where the woman lived. If Lenora didn’t return Charity’s phone message, then Charity would make certain they met face-to-face, which would probably be a lot better anyway. Emotions could be hidden in texts and on the phone, but it was much harder to conceal reactions when looking someone directly in the eye. And Charity considered herself a master at reading people.

But why and how would Megan’s mother be involved in her daughter’s disappearance?

It’s true it was not likely.

Still, she might be able to provide answers about the people Megan knew, the places she might hide, about ex-boyfriends and who would want to do Megan harm, a little insight into the missing woman. Maybe something to break the case wide open, courtesy of Charity Spritz. Oh, yes.

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 25

December 6

What the hell was she still doing here?