They locked eyes, and he said, “Hey, we’re talking about the Clarion. Remember? You and I are working on the biggest story to come their way since Barton Scruggs stole Hugh Lambert’s prize bull a couple of years ago.”

She smiled faintly. “Okay. You’re right. He’ll be calling. But in the meantime, take a look at this.” She handed him her cell phone, where a text message read I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. IT’S IMPORTANT.

“Who’s this from? What’s it about?”

“I don’t know what she wants, but it’s from Andie Jeffries.”

“The LPN who worked with Megan Travers at the clinic?”

“One and the same. I called the number back immediately. Set up an appointment, and if we don’t get going, we’ll be late. Thought you might want to tag along.”

He was already pushing his chair back. “You thought right.” He grabbed the jacket he’d slung over the back of his chair and slipped into it as they walked outside.

“And by the way,” Mendoza said as they reached his SUV, “don’t make the mistake of calling her Andrea. It’s Andie. She let me know that.”

“Got it. But what’s it about?”

“Don’t know. Wouldn’t say on the phone, and I have no idea why. Probably didn’t want someone to overhear her or something. Maybe we’ll find out. Whatever the reason, she wants a face-to-face, so we’re obliging. And it won’t take long. She’s due at work at nine, and she didn’t want to meet at the clinic for some reason, so we agreed on Lucy’s Diner.”

“Andie didn’t want to be seen talking to the cops?”

“My guess is she doesn’t want anyone at her work to know or have the press find out. That’s probably the same reason she didn’t want to come into the station.” She slid into the car and buckled up as Rivers settled behind the wheel.

“Lots of people are skittish or scared or weird around cops,” Mendoza said, stating the obvious. “They seem to think we’re the bad guys.”

“And yet they call us when they’re in a jam.”

“Um-hmm.”

“Let’s see what she has to say.”

Snow was falling again, lazy flakes drifting from a steel-gray sky as they drove the mile out of town to Lucy’s Diner. He cut the engine, and they headed inside, where they were met with a wall of heat. The scents of frying bacon and brewing coffee filled the air, while clicking glasses and buzzing conversation muffled the piped-in music, which seemed to be in the form of oldies from the sixties.