I dropped Serena at a designer boutique twenty minutes later.
She leaned through the open passenger door before closing it.
“You’re being weird.”
“I’m tired.”
“Because you saw Laura?”
I didn’t answer.
Serena rolled her eyes.
“Grant, she made her choices. Don’t let guilt turn you stupid.”
Guilt.
Interesting word.
“Dinner tonight?” she asked.
“I have work.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Fine. Tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
She kissed my cheek.
I waited until she disappeared inside the store.
Then I drove straight to my office.
At 3:06 p.m., I locked the door.
At 3:11, I called Marcus Reed.
Marcus had spent fifteen years investigating corporate fraud before opening his own private firm.
If someone moved money that didn’t belong to them, Marcus could usually find the fingerprints.
He answered on the second ring.
“Whitmore.”
“I need you to reopen something.”
There was a pause.
“The divorce?”
I sat down.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I was wondering when you’d make this call.”
That irritated me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I never liked how clean the evidence looked.”
My stomach tightened.
“You never said that.”
“You weren’t interested in hearing it.”
That shut me up.
I looked at the city through my office windows.
“Find Laura Bennett.”
“She changed her name back?”
“I don’t know.”
“And when I find her?”
“Everything.”
I swallowed.
“Where she’s living. Where she’s worked. Medical records if legally obtainable. Public assistance. Hospital records. And I want every piece of evidence from the divorce reexamined.”
“The transfers?”
“Yes.”
“The hotel photos?”
“Yes.”
“The necklace?”
“All of it.”
Marcus hesitated.
Then he asked the question I had been avoiding.
“What happened?”
“I saw her today.”
“And?”
“She had twins.”
Silence.
“How old?”
“I don’t know. Maybe… ten months.”
Marcus understood immediately.
“Grant.”
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