Will didn’t know where to store the three conversations with Sara. The last two made very little sense. Sara normally refused to talk about dinner before lunchtime. She was never, ever going to bring Will McDonald’s. That left the first call, which had lasted less than one minute, to scrutinize. Sara had sounded confused, then angry, then robotic, then like she was about to start crying.
Will rubbed his jaw.
He was missing the most obvious clue.
Sara had told him she was standing in the middle of a parking lot. That’s why she had ended the call. She was not going to break down in front of an audience. For all of her talk about open lines of communication, she tended to Michigan J. Frog her emotions. In public, her mood was always steady. In private, she could break down in a way that not many people would guess she was capable of. Will could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Sara absolutely lose it. Sometimes it happened when she was angry, sometimes when she was hurt, but always, always, she did it behind closed doors.
He looked into the rearview mirror. The road stretched behind him. Sara was half the state away by now. He slid his phone out of his pocket. He could locate Sara with an app, but he knew where Sara was, and the app would not tell him what she was thinking.
Will looked down at his phone. The lock screen showed a photo of her with the dogs. Betty was tucked up under Sara’s chin. Bob and Billy, her two giant greyhounds, were both pushing their way into her lap. Sara’s glasses were askew. She’d been trying to do a crossword puzzle. She’d started laughing and Will had taken the picture and she had begged him to erase it because she thought she looked goofy, so Will had set it as his wallpaper, and none of that mattered right now because—
Why hadn’t she texted him?
“Good Lord, Will. How do you sit here?” Faith demanded. “I mean, physically, how does your body fit into this space?”
Will glanced over. She was pushing back on her seat, trying to steal some legroom.
“Emma’s car seat is in the way.”
She asked, “Why didn’t you move it?”
“It’s your car.”
“And you’re a giant man.” She got on her knees to make room in the back.
Will stuck his phone in his pocket. He tried to keep up the conversation. “I thought they were hard to put in. Car seats.”
“It’s not rocket surgery.” She raked back her seat and stretched out her legs in the glorious free space. “Do you know how many Saturdays I spent stopping parents to check their seats when I was in uniform? You wouldn’t believe how stupid people are. There was this one couple—”
Will struggled to pay attention to the story, which took an unexpected turn into a drug bust and having to call animal control. He waited until Faith took a breath then nodded toward her notes. “Anything stick out?”
“The cell phones are bothering me.” She had zeroed in on Daryl Nesbitt’s offer to trade information. “The operation has to be sophisticated. More so than the usual. Before the riot, the warden confiscated four hundred phones. That’s a hell of a lot to keister in. I mean, I’ve seen an asshole. I’ve seen a phone. I don’t get how it works. Like, physically. Look at my phone.”
Will looked at the iPhone X in her hand. He told her, “One of those could fetch three thousand dollars inside.”
“I could probably do two at a time.”
Her phone dinged with a message. Then another message. Then another.
Will guessed Amanda was behind the dings. She sent each sentence in its own separate text because the Geneva Conventions did not apply to her team.
Faith summarized, “Amanda says Nesbitt has serious medical issues with his leg, and that’s what’s driving the one-week deadline. I assume the fact that she’s texting means they’re at the funeral home.”
Will looked at the clock. Amanda had made good time. He guessed Lena’s house was another ten minutes away. They had already swung by the Macon Police Department, hoping to surprise her. They’d been the ones who were surprised. Lena was home on maternity leave. She was a month from her due date.
Faith said, “I should take the lead with Lena.”
Will hadn’t considered a strategy, but he said, “That makes sense. She’s pregnant. You’ve got two kids.”
“I’m not bonding with that dingo over motherhood.” Faith scowled. “I hate pregnant women. Especially first-timers. They’re so smug, like something magical took place and suddenly, they’re growing life. You know how I magically grew Jeremy? I let a horny fifteen-year-old moron trick me into thinking I couldn’t get pregnant if it was only the tip.”
Will studied the GPS display on the dashboard.
Faith said, “I should take the lead with Lena because I’ve met your lying, duplicitous bitch of an ex-wife. And I’ve read your case notes from the last two times you investigated Lena.”
“Only the first time was an investigation. And she was cleared of wrongdoing. At least any wrongdoing I could prove.” Will realized he wasn’t exactly defending himself. “The second time was happenstance. Lena just happened to be caught up with some guys who—”
“‘Just happened to be caught up.’” Faith gave him a pointed look. “You don’t step in dog shit unless you’re following a dog.”
Will was no stranger to a dog park. “All you have to do is look down.”
Faith groaned. “You don’t see the bad in Lena. You don’t see the bad in anybody who’s like her.”
Will had to concede, silently, that
