No, Rebecca thought, no, she didn’t.

“It’s so frustrating,” Lenora was saying. “I’ve left messages with that detective—oh, what’s his name? Rivers, that’s it. But after an initial conversation, he hasn’t called me back.”

Rebecca thought about Brett Rivers, how she’d found him in Megan’s apartment, where he’d been standing in the dark, all alone, as if he were in some kind of trance or something, his mind light-years away. And the way he’d studied her when she was giving her statement at the sheriff ’s department. Weird dude. “He’s probably just busy.”

“He told me he’d keep me posted, but I don’t know if he will. He’s just as likely to call your father, and you know how that will go.” Lenora’s voice turned acrid and sharp, as it always did when she mentioned her ex. “Donald and that wife of his would like nothing more than to keep me in the dark—”

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” Rebecca cut in, hoping to forestall another hate-filled diatribe about Donald Travers. She had her own daddy issues and didn’t want to go there. “Promise.”

“Well . . .” she said, half-mollified for the moment, “I just want to be kept in the loop, Becky.” No one but Mom called her that. And Rebecca hated it. “You’re up there, and I can’t get away right now, and . . . I’m just so worried about Megan.” Her voice cracked. “Ever since she was a child, she was so emotional, so overly dramatic, so . . . well, so . . . ‘Megan,’ that’s what I used to say about her. All her life, she’s pulled these incredible stunts.”

“You think she’s doing this on purpose?” Rebecca asked, astounded that her mother had that much insight into her wayward younger daughter, even more astounded that Lenora would voice it.

“Oh, no . . . I mean, I don’t know, but I’m just worried sick, and if I could get away I’d be up there in an instant. You know that. But I’ve just got so much going on with the holidays and all. I’m one of the hostesses of the holiday ball and bingo championship, and then I’m in charge, I mean, I’m the head coordinator for the Valentine’s banquet; it’s for charity, a local soup kitchen, and we’re already collecting donations, and there’s a problem with the caterer and . . .” Lenora choked back a sob. “I’m just so worried.”