As he spoke, Dave was already dialing the next number. “Someone else will have to go to Prescott to pick up that search warrant,” he said into his phone. “I’m on my way to Phoenix. Scottsdale, actually. It seems our possible witness or suspect in the Morgan Forester homicide offed himself overnight. Well, so far it seems like suicide, anyway. Right. It’s probably a good thing for Bryan Forester that we’ve still got him under lock and key. Otherwise he might be declared a suspect in a second homicide.”

There was another long pause. “No!” he exclaimed. “You can’t be serious. They’re actually thinking about cutting him loose? Who came up with that lamebrained idea? All right, then, if they do let Forester out, I want someone on his tail every step of the way. I want to know where he goes and who he talks to. I also want you to amend that warrant request to include his telephone records. If there’s any kind of connection between him and the guy who’s dead down in Phoenix, I want to know about it. He may have been able to do a clean sweep of his computer, but his phone records won’t be as easy to destroy.”

Dave hung up and took one last slug of coffee. Between phone calls, he had eaten very little. Leaving most of his food, he slapped a twenty-dollar bill down on the table. “Tell your mom to keep the change,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.” With that, he dashed out the door.

Edie came back over to the table after he left. “Sorry about the Thanksgiving thing. I really stepped in it. Is that why Dave went racing out of here like that, or was there something wrong with the food?”

“The food was fine,” Ali said. “And there’s no problem about Thanksgiving. Dave’s on his way to Phoenix. Something happened to one of his potential witnesses.”

“I wonder if they’ve had any luck in finding Morgan’s ring,” Edie said.

“What ring?” Ali asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Morgan’s wedding ring,” Edie answered. “And the three-carat diamond engagement ring that was with it. I heard they’re both missing.”

“They weren’t found on the body?”

Edie shook her head. “Nope. One of the cops was asking Cindy Martin about them last night. Cindy always did Morgan’s nails, and the cops wanted to know if Morgan was wearing her rings the last time she came into the salon-which she was, by the way. Cindy said she never went anywhere without them.”

“So people are thinking that the killer stole her rings?”

Edie shrugged. “Cindy says she’s heard that Bryan is really hard up for cash right now.”

“So now she’s suggesting that Bryan made off with his wife’s rings in hopes of what-pawning them and realizing some quick cash?”

“It’s just a theory,” Edie said. “People are entitled to their opinions.”

“And I’m entitled to mine!” Ali returned. “What else are people saying?”

“There’s evidently some talk about possible drug use. I guess there was a puncture wound of some kind found on the body. The cops asked Cindy if Morgan Forester ever used drugs of any kind. Cindy said that if that had been the case, she for sure would have known about it.”

Did she know about Singleatheart? Ali wondered. If she had, she would have spilled her guts about that, too. Remind me never to set foot in Cindy Martin’s salon.

“Look, Mom,” she said. “I don’t think we should be discussing any of this.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, these sound like confidential details of a homicide investigation.”

“But Cindy-”

“Cindy talks too much,” Ali declared.

As Edie went to deliver coffee to another table, Ali was left thinking about the series of ha-has that had been written over every one of Bryan Forester’s computer files. If Bryan wasn’t responsible for destroying his own computer files, who was? Someone who had no idea Bryan had backups. Ali was equally sure Dave was right about one thing-the culprit, whoever it was, had something to hide. And that was when it came to her for the very first time that there might be some connection between the guy who had infiltrated Ali’s computer and Morgan Forester’s killer.

Maybe what Ali and B. had been dealing with was something far more deadly than a simple identity thief. Lost in thought, Ali removed Bryan’s thumb drive from her computer. She needed to warn B. about that, and much as she had wanted to avoid doing so, she also knew that she would have to ask him for help with the possibly contaminated thumb drives.

Ali glanced at the clock on the far wall. She had spoken to B. on the phone under three hours earlier, and he’d been on his way to bed, but the urgency of the situation meant she needed to talk to him sooner than later. When she called, though, his line went straight to voice mail, so she left a message. When her cell phone rang a few minutes later, she more than half expected to hear B.’s voice on the line. She didn’t.

“This is Haley Marsh’s grandmother,” Nelda Harris said. “Is this Ms. Reynolds?”

“Yes, it’s Ali. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but I need your help.”

“Why?” Ali asked. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Haley. I told her about our conversation when I got home from work last night. I wanted her to reconsider turning down your scholarship offer. She was very upset with me. She claimed I had no right to go behind her back and talk to you. We had a terrible fight about it. This morning she’s shut herself up in her room with the baby and is refusing to come out, refusing to go to school. What if she drops out completely, Ms. Reynolds? What will happen to her then? In all the years we’ve been together, we’ve never had this kind of difficulty. I can’t imagine what’s gotten into her. I’m at my wits’ end.”

“Do you think my talking to her directly would do any good?” Ali asked.

“I don’t know,” Nelda said. “Maybe. Right now she won’t listen to a word I have to say. Like I said, she won’t even come out of her room.”

Ali finished putting away her computer. “All right, then, Mrs. Harris. If you think I can be of assistance, I’ll come right over. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much.”

Halfway between Sedona and Cottonwood, Ali’s phone rang again. This time, when she answered, the caller was Leland Brooks.

“Do you remember hearing anything about a tile delivery scheduled for today?” he asked.

Ali didn’t. What she did remember was spending what had seemed like weeks of her life narrowing her choices down to the particular kind of Italian limestone tile that was to be laid in all three baths.

“What about it?” Ali asked.

“A driver from Contract Transportation just called here looking for Mr. Forester. He’s bringing a load of tile up from Phoenix and is on his way to Manzanita Hills. He says he can’t unload it without having someone on hand to sign for the delivery. He’s currently unable to locate Mr. Forester.”

“Because Mr. Forester happens to be in jail at the moment,” Ali supplied.

“Yes,” Leland agreed. “I thought it best not to mention that. The driver told me that since your name is on the invoice, along with Mr. Forester’s, you can okay the delivery in his stead.”

“I can,” Ali agreed. “Unfortunately, I’m halfway to Cottonwood right now. What about you? Could you sign for it for me?”

“If that’s what you’d like, I’ll be happy to do so,” Leland said. “But I’ll have to drop off the carpet shampooer first. It’s due back before nine. The carpet is quite damp at the moment, so it’s just as well that I’ll be out of the house for a while. That’ll give it a chance to dry a bit. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Not right this minute, but I’ll need your help this afternoon. We should probably both plan on being back at Manzanita Hills later on today. Detective Holman told me that someone from the sheriff’s department will be executing a search warrant there, looking for incriminating evidence they believe Bryan Forester may have hidden somewhere on the property. We’ll need to be there to let them in.”