“OK.”
“Call me the instant you know anything.”
“You, too.”
Standing with the phone in one hand, I caught a snapshot of myself in the newly replaced dining room mirror.
Body tense, face a frightened white oval.
Like Anne in my corridor the night of the break-in.
Dear God! Let her be all right.
What to do? Phone the airlines? Tom was doing that. Car rental companies? Cab companies? The police?
Was I overreacting? Had Anne simply taken off to be by herself? Should I do nothing and wait?
But Anne left a note. She had some plan in mind. But what plan?
I jumped when the phone shrilled in my hand.
“Anne?”
“It’s me.” Ryan must have picked up on the tension in my voice. “What’s wrong?”
I told him about Anne’s abrupt departure.
“Does the note say she’s going home?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Did she phone anyone?”
“This phone doesn’t record outgoing calls.”
“Or incoming. Or have caller ID. You really need to upgrade.”
“Thanks for the technical advice.”
“I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Thanks. Ryan?”
“Yeah.”
“She was very down.”
“She took her things. That’s a good sign.”
“Yes.” I hadn’t thought of that.
Pause.
“Do you want me to come over there?”
I did. “I’ll be all right. Why are you calling?”
“SIJ was able to lift prints from the letter opener. Two sets.”
“Menard and the woman.”
“You’re probably half right.”
“Half?”
“The guy’s not Menard.”
28
“THE PRINTS WERE LEFT BY TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE. NEITHER IS Menard.”
“You’re sure?”
“I sent everything down to Vermont. Their lab compared the latents from our letter opener to those taken when Menard was busted on the DWI charge.”
“But Menard was all over that letter opener.” I wasn’t believing this.
“The guy in the house was. But he’s not Menard.”
“Any hit on the second set?”
“No. We’re running them up here, and sending them through AFIS in the States.”
AFIS is the Automated Fingerprint Information System.
“If the guy’s not Menard, who is he?”
“An exceptionally perceptive question, Dr. Brennan.”
This was not making sense. “Maybe there’s a screwup on the prints.”
“It happens.”
