“What am I gonna do about it?” Bill spread his large hands, palms up.

“Fight for the girl! Tell her you love her! Find out who he is, snoop around her top drawer, follow her, spy on her, look through her stuff.” It was so obvious to Mary, since she’d gone to Montana. Maybe Bill needed to go to Montana, too.

“There’s lots you could do, if you wanted to.”

“Not my style.”

Mary decided to change the subject. “How long did Keisha work for Saracone, do you know?”

“Two months, off and on. She didn’t like him. He used to order her around.”

Mary recalled how Keisha had protected him, that night. “But she was good to him, right?”

“I dunno. She was a good nurse. She did her job, I’m sure.”

“Did she ever talk about Saracone?”

“Not much.”

“What did she say about him?”

“Not much.”

“Did Keisha ever mention a Chico? He’s the guy who hit me.”

“No.”

“Chico drives a black Escalade. Have you ever seen a black Escalade out front?”

“In this neighborhood?” Bill smiled and his teeth tips peeked out. “I got three neighbors have a black Escalade. Everybody wants a black Escalade, even me.”

Okay, forget that. “Did she know what kind of business Saracone was in, or the son?”

Bill thought a minute. “Don’t remember her saying.”

“I think it was investments. Sound familiar?”

“News to me.” Bill shrugged, and Mary switched tacks.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Wednesday morning, when she went to work. She was here all last week. Then she didn’t come home Thursday night, or any night since.”

Mary felt a twinge of concern. “Aren’t you worried?”

“No, happens all the time. She’s with him.”

“Did you try her cell? I did, and she doesn’t answer. I think I left three hundred messages so far.”

“She never answers when she’s with him.”

Mary wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Could she be with her family, or would they know where she is, for sure?”

“Nah. She’s only got a mom, and she lives in Birmingham. They don’t talk much.”

“Doesn’t she have any girlfriends who would know where she is?”

“She’s not big on friends, and I know where the girl is.” Bill shook his head with a sad smile. “I don’t like where the girl is, but I sure as shit know where she is. She’s with him, and I don’t know where he lives.”

“Do you think she’d go to Saracone’s funeral?” Mary had seen the notice in the paper. The funeral was tomorrow, but it was private.

“I dunno.”

“So you have no idea when you’ll see her again?”

“None.”

Mary tensed. “You’re assuming so much, Bill. Something bad could have happened to her. It’s at least possible, even if she’s seeing someone else. She’s an attractive girl and she’s missing.”

“She’s not missing.” Bill laughed ruefully. “She’s with him.”

“But you don’t know that for sure! I’m worried about her, and I don’t even know her.” Mary couldn’t help but freak. Some people never got emotional, and she woke up emotional.

“Bill, I didn’t tell you this before, but when I went to Saracone’s the other night, I accused him of killing a client of mine, and they did this to my cheek.” She pointed at her badge of honor, and Bill’s eyes flared, but only briefly. “Keisha was there for the whole thing. She heard what I said, saw me get hit. Her being missing, it may be related to that, and not just her being with another guy. You read the article in the paper today, so you know that this Saracone guy is a killer.”

“Saracone is dead.”

Uh, right. Still. “But something else may be going on. Ask yourself, why would she call me, anyway? Her call to me sounded worried. I saved the message, you wanna hear it?” Bill nodded, so Mary opened her purse, got her cell phone, and played him the message on repeat, then saved it again. His eyelid twitched just the slightest behind his glasses when he heard Keisha’s voice. Mary watched him and softened her tone. “Doesn’t she sound worried to you?”

“A little.”

“I think we should call the police.”

“Call the cops? No way! I’m not going to.” Bill waved her off. “I don’t want any part of that. I’d embarrass myself.”

“You said you love the girl. Why take a chance? You think you can’t lose someone you love?” Mary heard the words escape her lips, then realized why.

“Let me think about it.” Bill bit into his soft lower lip, but Mary couldn’t take it any more. She reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and plugged in the number.

“Detective Gomez, please. I’m a friend of his, and it’s personal.”

“Gomez,” he said, when he picked up.

“Detective, it’s Mary DiNunzio. That nurse I told you about is missing. Keisha Grace, the one who witnessed my discussion with Saracone. She called me on my -”

“DiNunzio, you told the desk it was personal.”

“It is. To me. My face hurts. And that’s not a straight line.”

“I’m not laughin.’ Not after that stunt you pulled.”

“What stunt?”

“With the paper, with that reporter. Got my name in ink, and yours, too. You fed him that story while the case was under investigation.”

Mary’s mouth fell open. “No, I didn’t. I talked to him last week and he ran with it on his own.”

“Sure he did. He had details only you could give him. He talked to your uncle, for Christ’s sake! You think you’re a smart-ass, breaking into a crime scene, stealing evidence. You don’t respect the process, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“I do respect the process. I didn’t leak anything, I swear.”

“Try livin’ in Mexico, honey, like my brother. The cops there don’t bother to do any investigating, they just beat a confession out of you.” Gomez’s tone had an unhappy finality to it. “I’m working this case, I’m all over this case, and I don’t need you or any other lawyer – including Ms. Rosato – talkin’ to the papers and makin’ me, my sergeant, and the department look bad.”

“Wait, hear me out. I thought you leaked it.”

“Bullshit!”

“Listen, set our stuff aside for a minute, I’m calling because of this nurse, Keisha Grace.” Mary tried to modulate her voice. “She’s missing. She hasn’t been home since Wednesday. She saw my fight with Saracone. She heard me accuse him. Yesterday, she called me on my cell, trying to reach me. It’s too coincidental that she disappears right now.”

“So tell her family to file a missing person report. This is Homicide, not baby-sitting.”

“Her family doesn’t live here.”

“So how do you know she’s missing?”

“Her boyfriend told me, I’m here with him now.”

“Then put him on. I’m done talking to you.”

Mary handed the phone over, but not before she covered the receiver with her hand. “Back me up, please.”

Bill nodded and put the phone to his ear. “That’s right, Wednesday morning. She worked for the Saracone family for two months.”

Mary started nodding encouragement.

“It isn’t that unusual for her. I mean, she does disappear from time to time.”

Mary stopped nodding encouragement.

“Last week, for two days. Week before that, one day, and the week before that, too.”

Mary kicked his big foot in the flip-flops.

“No, she never said anything like that to me. She didn’t tell me much about the Saracones or about any of her jobs.”

Mary gave Bill a shove, and he almost fell over.

“Nothing,” he answered. “No, I don’t think she ever felt threatened or anything.”

No! Mary grabbed the phone. “Detective Gomez,” she said into the receiver, but his only response was a very pissed-off click as he hung up.

It was dark and pouring when Mary left the apartment building, so she pulled the White People Hat out of her pocket and put it back on. She hurried back down the street in the downpour, over the gingko berries and through dirty puddles formed by the cracked sidewalks. Water drenched her sneakers, and hard rain pelted parked cars, sidewalks, and her hat so hard it was like a dull roar, obliterating all other sounds.