“So the owner… what was his name?” Lorna asked.

“Lorenzo Blair,” Regan told her.

“So Blair runs this club… which all of the victims so far had frequented. They disappear and are found buried in my woods. Then he goes missing?” Lorna bit her bottom lip. “Do you think he could have been the killer?”

“I think it’s more likely he was one of the victims,” T.J. replied. “No one is going to walk away from a venture that’s making money. You’d sell it, but you wouldn’t just walk away. Maybe we can track down a relative, see if we can get some DNA, perhaps get a match to one of the remains found back there.”

“Already on it.” Mitch smiled. “I have a meeting with his mother next week. First, however, I’ll be meeting with Chief Walker to fill him in. Gotta keep the locals in the loop. Besides, I want to see what he’s found over the past few days. He’s been awfully quiet.”

“Wouldn’t he have told you if another body had been located?” Regan asked.

“I’d certainly expect that, yes. But I’m interested in the other things, the little things they might be digging up or putting aside. Things that might contain DNA or fingerprints.”

“After all these years, you can get fingerprints and DNA?” Lorna stood and began clearing the plates. All the burgers and fries had been devoured and nothing remained but a few crumbs.

“Sometimes. Both depend on a number of factors. Exposure to the elements, temperature, that sort of thing. I spoke with the county techs the other day and they all seem to be on the ball. I just want to see if anything that’s been recovered looks like something we might want to expedite to the FBI labs.” Mitch then turned to Regan. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“It’s early evening, from Baltimore, but I need to run home and pack a few things first.”

“So you’re going to do your TV thing, then see if you can find Eddie Kroll?” Mitch asked.

“I’m going to hunt him down.” Regan grinned. “I am so curious about this guy. I’m wondering if maybe he wasn’t a friend or even a distant relative of my dad’s. That would be great, to find a relative, after all this time.”

“Didn’t you know any of your father’s family?” Lorna stood at the sink, cleaning scraps from the dishes into the trash can.

“No. I never met any of his relatives. His parents died while he was in college, and his only brother died while we were living in England,” Regan told her.

“How long did you live abroad?” T.J. rose and walked across the kitchen. To Lorna, he said, “You wash, I’ll dry.”

“You wash, I’ll put things away after I dry.” She smiled. “And thanks.”

“We lived in England until I was twelve. My mother was born there, and she very reluctantly left to move here. I knew all of her family, we’re still close. But I never met anyone on my dad’s side.”

“No cousins?” T.J. asked.

“He didn’t have any. Just the one brother who died.” Regan smiled wistfully. “I miss my British cousins. I wish I had someone here to feel connected to. It’s just… odd. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles or cousins. You feel very much alone without family.”

“How often do you see your English relatives?” asked Mitch.

“I usually visit twice a year, my cousins have been over at one time or another. My cousin Polly used to take her vacation-her ‘holiday’-here every year, but she’s married now and has small children. It’s been too difficult for her to arrange a visit, between her husband’s business and her having babies.” Regan rested her chin in the palm of her hand and sighed. “I do miss her.”

“Hey, I have about forty cousins, I’d be happy to loan you as many as you want,” Mitch offered. “There is no shortage of Peytons in Maine.”

“I’ll remember that, if I ever get to Maine again.”

“And you’re always welcome here,” Lorna assured her.

“I appreciate that. I really like it here.” Regan looked out the kitchen window. “Maybe when I come back, we can get that garden along the back fence cleaned out. I started pulling some weeds the other afternoon, but I stopped when Mitch arrived.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I do have to clean up that entire section. It’s one of the places my mother wanted her ashes.”

“You still have your mother’s ashes?” T.J. turned to her.

She nodded. “Two more urns of them. Smallish ones. She wanted to be in three places. So far I’ve only managed to get to the family plot. The third spot was the pond. I’ve barely even been down there since I got home.”

“Any particular reason?” T.J. asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I just haven’t had time. Between trying to keep my business running, going back to Woodboro for the meeting yesterday, and everything else that’s been going on around here, I haven’t had much quiet time to myself.”

“Well, maybe this will all be over soon and we’ll be out of your hair,” T.J. told her.

Lorna smiled weakly. She was just getting used to having them all around. Especially T.J.

“Hey, you can always fire Dawson.” Mitch grinned. “Which reminds me, we’re still waiting for the rundown on your meetings today. Did you find out anything important?”

“We discovered that Mike Keeler and his brother have different recollections of the nights that both the Eagan kids disappeared.” T.J. finished rinsing the last plate and handed it to Lorna, then dried his hands on a towel.

“How different?” Mitch wanted to know.

“Different enough that I don’t think the variations are due to the amount of time between then and now. One of them is lying.”

“Any feel for which one?”

T.J. shook his head. “On the one hand, there’s Fritz, who we know travels out of town a few times each month. I’d like to know where he goes, who he sees. Then there’s Mike, who believes the police already have the right suspect in mind.”

“He thinks Billie’s guilty?” Mitch leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah. His time line is so different from his brother’s-when he arrived, who was there at what time, that sort of thing. It will be interesting to see how Dustin Lafferty remembers things. We’re going to be meeting with him tomorrow at his office. He owns an insurance agency in a place called Elk Run, which Lorna assures me isn’t too far from here.”

“Between here and Lancaster,” Lorna said.

“And what about that friend of Melinda Eagan’s you were going to visit?” Mitch drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “What did she have to say?”

“She said as little as possible,” T.J. told him. “She claimed to barely remember Melinda. Even Lorna’s attempts to jog her memory seemed to bounce off her.”

“Which was really hard to believe,” Lorna interjected. “Since I happen to know that Melinda spent quite a few weekends at Danielle’s house that last summer and fall.”

“Why would she deny knowing her?” Regan asked.

“I have no idea. Obviously I knew she was lying. And she said she sort of remembered my name. I was never a friend of hers, was never at her home, never socialized with her, but she remembered my name, not Melinda’s?” Lorna shook her head. “Not even close to being credible.

“And the second we left she was on the phone to someone,” Lorna said.

“Oh, right, the number you wanted the phone records for. I should have them by tomorrow, depending on how busy my buddy is back in the office.”

“I can’t wait to find out who she felt needed to know we were asking about Melinda.” Lorna slipped the last of the dinner plates into the cupboard. “I wonder who would be that interested, after all these years.”

“Well, hopefully by this time tomorrow, we’ll know.” Mitch stood and pushed his chair in, obviously preparing to leave. “And with any luck, we’ll have IDs on the last three remains, maybe even a better idea of who killed them, and why.”