“Tomorrow morning,” she remarks softly.
“Will they keep him, or will they question him and send him home?” I ask.
“We don’t know,” she replies.
Landon moves to the living room, sits back on the couch, and stares up at the ceiling. I sit next to him and grip his hand. Suddenly, he stands up and crosses the room to the kitchen. He opens a drawer and pulls out a blue booklet. He hands it to Fiona. “Thank you.”
I cock my head, puzzled.
“In order to wait until morning, the judge required him to forfeit his passport,” Fiona says.
I want to run. He has a plane. I’d get on the plane with him and fly wherever he wants to go. I don’t care that we’d be running from the law. I know in my heart of hearts, he didn’t have anything to do with Heather McCoy’s disappearance. What if they never leave him alone?
But in the next breath, I know facing this is the only option.
I look at Jim where he’s seated on a chair. “Your best friend has been arrested for his wife’s murder and now this. Where is your focus?”
Jim’s face softens. “I won’t deny, I’m split between the two, but I have a team standing behind me.” He leans forward, his hands clasped together. “Bash Pontius and Levi Holden are working hard on this case exclusively. Right now, they’re in Illinois talking to Heather’s parents.”
“From what I’ve seen, no one has searched her boyfriend's place since she went missing,” Fiona adds. “SFPD has focused purely on Landon. Our hope is that giving up his passport and being on time tomorrow for questions will make him a cooperating witness.”
The house phone rings, and I answer. After listening a moment, I report, “There’s a Marci Peterson here to see Mr. Walsh.”
Jim nods, and Fiona mouths, “That’s our attorney.”
“Send her up, please,” I tell Dee at the desk below.
“I also have a large amount of mail here for Mr. Walsh,” Dee says. “Would it be okay to send it up with Diego?”
“That would be fine. Dee, I know I’m a guest, but Mr. Walsh is distracted. Can you help me order dinner?”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Do you have the last order of Chinese we made when Mr. Walsh’s parents were here in May?”
I hear her flip pages. “I do.” She recites the list.
“Would you reorder that? I can give you my credit card, if you prefer.”
“No, Ms. Pratt. Mr. Walsh mentioned you were his guest. We’re fine.”
“Thank you, Dee.”
I step out of the room to call Claire and give her the update. She agrees to come right over.
When I return, I’m introduced to Marci. She’s a 1950s pin-up model with short, curly, blond hair and porcelain skin.
“Hello,” she says. “I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”
“Nice to meet you. I’ve ordered Chinese for dinner. I hope that will work for everyone. Claire is also on her way.”
Marci’s brow furrows.
“Claire is our business partner and Landon’s sister.”
Relief crosses her face. “Perfect. Let’s sit at the table, and we can go through everything.”
Claire arrives shortly, as does our food. Marci asks questions and collects information, and then Fiona gives her everything she’s shared with the San Francisco PD.
After she’s organized everything, Marci nods. “So, if everything stands, we should be home by the end of the day tomorrow.”
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until she said that.
“I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at my office at eight,” she tells Landon. “We’ll make our way over to arrive at the Federal Building by eight thirty. Bring your driver’s license. I’m assuming it’s current with this address?”
Landon nods. “I’ve given Fiona my passport, but I’m still carrying my permanent resident card.”
“We don’t need to advertise that you’re not a citizen. They already know.”
Landon nods.
“Do you think there will be any press there?” Claire asks.
Marci smiles. “If there is, it’s not because they’ve told anyone you’re coming in.”
“We’re close to finishing some pretty significant software,” Claire laments. “Tinsley has a stalker. My ex-boyfriend seems to be trying to steal our work. And Jim and Fiona are busy with another client. Now we have this to deal with.” She begins to cry.
I pat her on the back.
“That is a lot at one time. I’m so sorry.” Marci looks down at the leather notebook in front of her. “Tinsley, tell me about your stalker.”
I tell her about Tomas Vigil and the Stanford Octagon.
“Jim, what have you found out about this guy?”
Jim goes into the security room and returns with a folder over an inch thick. “Tomas went to school at Stanford. He graduated at the top of his class, but he’s emotionally stunted, which is obvious from what he’s said about Tinsley in the group, but I’m not sure he’s an incel. Tinsley has found out that he works for an internet security company, which is a subsidiary of a subsidiary. We can’t be sure exactly who he works for yet, but Gage and his team are working on it, and I’m considering having Cora Perry, head of cybercrimes at FBI Cyber, look into it.”
“Okay.” Marci turns to Claire. “Tell me about your ex-boyfriend.”
“His name is Morgan Bennett.” Claire tells her how they met, and she cries as she tells her about the plans they made and his disappearance.
When Claire’s hurt and anger overtake her, I fill the gap to close the last piece of the puzzle. “She was out with friends, and they saw him on a date and confronted him. It wasn’t pretty, and he said some awful things.”
Marci makes
