In Sickness and in Death

I pulled the Lexus into the parking lot of The Lincoln House, the restaurant and bar where Erica worked. Erica’s car sat in the far corner of the lot. My heart rejoiced. Could she have shown up for work?

Danny studied the picture of Abraham Lincoln in the lobby of the log cabin restaurant while I scanned the bar. I didn’t see Erica, but the place was full.

The hostess seated us near the fieldstone fireplace. When the waitress arrived, I ordered sodas and sent Danny to get his pizza from the salad bar. I hustled into the barroom and caught the bartender’s eye.

“Hey, Jolene. Did you and Ray come in for dinner?” Bernie, the bartender and half-owner, went to high school with us. He was a star on our high school football team, but his renowned brawn had since aged into paunch.

“Ray’s at work. I brought our new foster child, Danny. He’s twelve.”

Bernie swiped a towel over the bar. “I got a twelve-year-old. Jacob. Maybe they’ll be in the same class.”

“That would be nice. Is Erica working tonight?”

He folded the towel in his hands and looked at it. “She’s off tonight. She was here last night.” He didn’t sound too happy about it.

“Her car’s in the parking lot.”

His gaze remained trained on the towel. “I noticed.”

“Do you know if she went home with someone last night?”

He frowned. “Not for sure. She walked out with a new guy.”

“An employee?”

“A customer. He’s been in a couple times this month.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No. He’s quiet. Not really her type.”

“What do you mean?”

He gave his nose a nervous swipe. “Your sister likes excitement. Lately she’s been spoiling for a fight.”

“In what way?”

“She’s irritable. She’s jumpy. She gets mad if things don’t go her way. I had to sit her down the other day and tell her that she needs to sweeten up or she’s outta here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought she was doing well here.”

He brought his gaze to meet mine. “She was, Jolene. She was. I knew her record when I hired her, and I warned her then. She did fine for a while, but the last few months …” He trailed off and avoided my eyes again.

“What about them?”

“To be honest, since you lost your baby, she’s been different.”

I shouldn’t have felt surprised. Erica did shoot a man the day before we surrendered Noelle. Surely that had affected her, whether she admitted to it or not. “Different in what way?”

“It’s like she’s desperate for attention.” He washed a few glasses in the sink under the bar. “I think she misses you.”

“Misses me?”

“Yeah. She talked about you and the baby all the time. Then suddenly she didn’t have anything to talk about anymore. I’d ask her how you were doing and she didn’t know.”

Guilt washed over me. I’d neglected my sister, my surrogate child. Erica needed support, and I hadn’t been there to give it to her. “What does this guy she walked out with look like?”

“Dark hair. Maybe six foot. Okay looking, for a guy.”

“If he comes in again, can you call me?”

Bernie stopped drying the glass in his hand. “What for?”

“I don’t know where Erica is, and she’s been off her medicine. I need to find her and make sure she’s all right.”

“Sure. Sure. If he comes in, I’ll call you. And if Erica comes in, I’ll let you know, too.” He leaned closer. “I gotta tell you, though, if she doesn’t come in for her next shift, she’s through.”

“Fair enough.” If that happened, I would pay Erica’s bills just like always.

After thanking Bernie, I rejoined Danny at the table. He had four slices of pizza stacked on a plate with a side of heavily buttered bread. No vegetables.

I let it go. “I’m going to grab a piece of pizza and some salad. Then we need to go to Erica’s apartment, okay?”

Danny nodded, his cheeks bulging with pizza.

____


Erica lived in the apartment I’d leased when Ray and I separated four years ago. He and I’d been unable to come to terms over his desire to have a baby and my desire to avoid perpetuating my bloodline’s mental health issues. When Noelle fell into our arms and Ray and I reconciled after three years, we bought the bungalow, and Erica had moved into this old Victorian on Wells Street. She lived in the first floor apartment, and the landlord lived on the second floor. This time of year, the landlord was most likely holed up in a hunting lodge somewhere with his old war buddies. The entire house was dark when we pulled into the driveway.

I rang the bell then used my key. The apartment smelled musty. Danny followed me in and waited while I turned on the lights.

“Wow. Cool.” The dozens of fake butterflies dangling on fishing line from the ceiling captured Danny’s attention immediately. “She likes butterflies.”

I nodded. My fears grew.

The kitchen was clean and orderly. No one had cooked here in days, maybe months. Her bed was made, her clothes hung. Her suitcases remained tucked under the bed. Erica wasn’t here, and I couldn’t find a clue as to where she might be.

I tried to find her yearbooks, but failed. I’d have to go by my dim memories of Maury Boor for now.

I shut off the lights and led Danny out to the driveway again. “Danny, I need to go to The Cat’s Meow. Would you mind staying in the car while I go inside?”

He shrugged.

“Will you promise to stay in the locked car and wait for me? I don’t want to come out and find you missing again like at Dr. Albert’s office.”

He gazed at the floor. “I promise.” He lifted his head. “Do you think Erica is at The Cat’s Meow?”

I slid into the car and started the engine as he scrambled into the back seat. “I don’t know. She was there the other night. She was at a motel near there this afternoon. I just have to ask if they’ve seen her.” With any luck Briana Engle, Gumby’s wife, would be there to answer my questions. I didn’t feel like sidling up to anyone else in the place.

I backed out and headed out of town.

“What’s wrong with Erica?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s weird.”

“She is not weird.” I glanced at Danny in the rearview mirror but couldn’t make out his features in the dark. “Why do think she’s weird?”

“I don’t know. She’s just different.”

I had to give him that. Erica was different. When depressed, she was unapproachable. But with the right medication and phase of the moon, she was exuberant, charming, outgoing, and talkative. These days, she seemed dark and restless, a precursor in the past to hospitalization. Her heavy drinking was new. She’d stayed away from alcohol in the past because of her medications. I mentally kicked myself for not paying more attention to her. I’d fooled myself into believing her days in the psychiatric center were over.

But Danny didn’t know Erica was different from the usual. He meant she was different from everybody else, and not in a good way.

I couldn’t decide if he was very intuitive or just becoming a bigot like his father.

Either way, my number one priority was to find my sister.





Sunday night at The Cat’s Meow didn’t draw a full house, judging from the parking lot. Only a dozen cars sat in it, surrounded by the dead cornstalks that looked on like sentinels. In one vehicle, a couple was steaming up the windows. I parked as far from them as possible and crossed my fingers Danny wouldn’t notice them.

I turned around to look him in the eye. “Now remember, you promised to stay in the car. Do not get out. Do not unlock the doors. Do not speak to anyone. Okay?”

“Okay.” Again, I heard the “yeah, right, lady” in his voice. I knew my fears for his safety far exceeded his confidence in his ability to care for himself.

I ran across the muddy parking lot and opened the front door. A bouncer sat alone in the foyer.

“You got ID?”

I pulled out my driver’s license, flattered he thought I might be underage.

He looked at my picture. I had long hair when it was taken several years ago. “You were hot.” He handed it back to me.

In an instant, I felt old and ugly, two things only amplified by the interior of the strip club.

At first, the loud music and disco lights stunned me. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust. Then I spotted the dancer gyrating on the stage with a G string, feather boa, and pasties, sporting boobs the size of cannonballs. I felt shortchanged, overdressed, and embarrassed for her and me.

The half-dozen men seated around the stage paid no attention to me, perhaps because I had all my clothes on, but more likely because their eyes were riveted on the stage. I crossed the room to the bar and asked for Briana Engle, Gumby’s wife. The bartender sent the half-naked waitress standing at the bar to get Briana from her dressing room.

“What else can I getcha?” He smiled at me with two broken front teeth.

“Nothing, thank you.”

He hitched his pants up and walked to the other end of the bar to watch the football game.

“Hey, Jolene. I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How are you?” Briana enveloped me in a hug that brought me in contact with her own two cannonballs. They didn’t flatten an inch under her red silk robe as her chest met mine.

“Worried. My sister, Erica, is missing. I know she was in here Tuesday night. Did you see her?”

Briana pursed her lips, which were as red as her robe. “I saw her singing at the top of her lungs and hitting on all the boys. She stole my thunder. I didn’t make any tips that night. Gumby finally called Ray.”

So he called because his wife was losing money, not because my sister needed help? Surely Gumby was a better officer than that. “I’m sorry about your tips. Has my sister been back since?”

Briana called the bartender over and asked him. He shook his head. Briana shrugged. “Guess not.”

“She wanted a man to take her home that night. Do you know his name or what he looked like?”

“No name, but he’s a big, redheaded guy. Really big. Meaty. Erica kept asking him if he was big all over.”

Lovely. And unfortunately, not the same man as the one from The Lincoln House. Now I had two potential suitors for her affections, and no name for either one.

“If Erica or the redheaded man comes in again, can you call me?”

“Sure, Jolene. No problem.”

“Thanks, Briana.” I started to turn away then felt Briana’s hand on my coat sleeve.

“Can you do me a favor, too?”

“Of course.”

“When you find your sister, tell her to stay away from my husband.”

____


After Danny went to bed, I climbed into the bathtub and tried to soak off the lingering sleaze dust I’d picked up inside the strip club. I hadn’t been able to think of anywhere else to look for Erica when we left there, and I knew Danny should be in bed by nine before his first day at Wachobe Middle School.

I must have dozed off in the tub because the next thing I knew Ray was sitting on the side of the tub, giving me a soapsuds beard.

He bent to kiss me on the nose as I wiped away his handiwork.

“How was the rest of your day? Did you find Josie Montalvo’s body?”

“Not even a lead. She rented her apartment a little over a month ago. Her landlord didn’t require any information from her, just a $500 deposit, which he’s now going to have to use to hire a professional service to clean the blood off her bedroom carpet. They released the scene today.”

“I went to The Cat’s Meow to look for Erica tonight.”

“I heard. Briana called Gumby.”

“I have no secrets, do I?”

Ray gazed down at my body. “Not without the soapsuds.”

My cheeks burned. I tried to attribute it to the hot water, but the temperature of my bath had turned cold long ago. “Could you hand me a towel?”

He rose and pulled a bath sheet off the rack, holding it out so I could step into it.

I would have preferred to have him hand it to me and leave the room. Even though we’d been together for over fifteen years, I felt a little shy to step out naked in front of him. I knew where it might lead, and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had sex. Most likely it had been in the days following Noelle’s departure, when I’d been inconsolable no matter what Ray tried.

I could tell from the look on Ray’s face what he’d like to try tonight. My hands started to shake even as I told myself how ridiculous it was to feel nervous with Ray.

Erica’s nonsense about becoming a born-again virgin crossed my mind. Absurd. Totally absurd.

I stood and stepped over the side of the bathtub with as much grace as I could muster. I slipped on the wet tile. My leg went out from under me. I flailed my arms in an effort to catch my balance.

Ray’s arms and the towel enfolded me, holding me upright. He picked me up and set me on the rug in front of the mirror then tucked the edge of the towel in securely, brushing the top of my breast with his dry hand. He met my gaze in the mirror.

“Tired?”

His voice was husky.

A tingle rippled down my back. “A little.”

I grabbed another towel and wrapped it around my head, careful not to bump him in the shrinking room. “I took Danny to The Lincoln House for dinner and asked Bernie if any guys had shown an interest in Erica.”

Ray’s hands pushed mine aside as he took over gently toweling my hair. “And?”

“Bernie said she left the other night with a quiet, dark-haired guy. He didn’t know his name.”

“A quiet one, huh?”

Ray always says to watch out for the quiet ones. I pulled the towel from his hands and nodded. “What if the guy is a serial killer? What if he’s the guy you’re looking for?”

He took off his badge and laid it on the countertop. “Then he picked too small a town. We’ll find him fast.”

“Briana said Erica tried to take home a redheaded guy at the club. Do you know any guys with red hair?”

He wrestled off his belt and laid it next to his badge. “I don’t even know any redheaded women.”

I started brushing my hair. “I might. Cory said our new customer is a redhead. He said she had a brother. In fact, I saw a red-haired woman come out of The Cat’s Meow the day Danny stole that car. I took Erica there to pick up the Porsche.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t remember. Cory wrote it down for me. I’ll have to go to the office tomorrow.” I put my hairbrush back in the drawer. “Which reminds me, are you off tomorrow?”

“I’m not off again until we find Josie Montalvo and her killer.”

“Oh.”

Ray stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just the principal wanted to see us about the Nintendo. I was hoping you could handle it.”

“Sorry, Darlin’. You’ll have to handle it.” He reached for the towel encasing my body, wrapped his fingers in it, and pulled me toward him. “You can handle anything.”

I slammed my hand onto his chest, bringing me to a halt inches from him. I could feel the heat of his body, and my own body’s reaction to it. It had been a long time.

But I wasn’t feeling the love at that moment. “Ray, you just stuck me with Danny. Whatever made you think bringing him home was a good idea?”

His gaze roamed over my shoulders and the tops of my breasts. “You said you wanted to help people.”

“I did, but I wanted to do it in my own way, not yours.”

He released my towel and took a step back. “Do you want me to call Social Services and request another placement for Danny?”

My heart leapt with relief. Then I felt the all too familiar waves of guilt and responsibility. “Not now. He’s got a room here and clothes and books and … and … we’re committed to him. That’s not my point. My point is you should have consulted me first.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I saw his need, remembered what you said, and went with my gut.”

I didn’t see any point in arguing with him about it any further. “I understand.”

He bent and ran his lips down my neck and along my shoulder, sending chills down my spine. “So am I forgiven?”

I rested my hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Mine accelerated. “Yes.”

He leaned in to kiss me. His lips grazed mine. The pressure increased, drawing me in. I almost let go.

Then I heard crying. I shoved at his chest.

It was like trying to move a mountain, but he stopped. Irritation flashed in his eyes. “What?”

“I hear crying.”

Sadness replaced the irritation. “Jolene, Noelle is happy and healthy with her mother. You have to stop this.”

I slapped his chest in frustration. “No, Ray, I hear Danny crying.”

He tilted his head and listened with me. Through the open bathroom door came the distinct sound of sobbing.

Ray glanced at my towel. “I’ll talk to him.”

I pulled on my pajamas and slippers and chased after Ray.

When I entered Danny’s room, his lamp was on. I could see his red face and the tear stains on his pajamas as he sat sniffling. Ray had one hand on his shoulder, patting it soothingly.

Danny’s anguished face turned toward me, and he burst into a fresh onslaught of tears. “My dad’s going to jail. It’s all my fault. He told me to stay in the car, but I didn’t. I didn’t.”

Ray moved over so I could join them on the bed. “Danny says he got out of the car at The Cat’s Meow and tried to sneak inside to see who his dad was talking to. He tried the back door and the side door, but they were locked. He even went into the foyer, but the bouncer kicked him out.”

Danny hiccupped. “Then I went back to the car. It was open. The driver’s door and the back door. I figured my dad came out and couldn’t find me. So I got in the car and waited for him. But when he came out, he didn’t act like he knew I’d gotten out of the car. He just hopped in and took off.”

I moved closer to Danny and hugged him. “I don’t understand. What did you do that was so terrible?”

Danny looked at Ray, who replied. “He left the car, Darlin’. Danny thinks someone came and planted the woman’s arm in the car while he was circling the building.”

“Oh.” I thought about that for a minute. “But the person would need a key to get in the trunk or a remote. Your dad’s key chain didn’t have a remote on it.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “He had a remote. I know he had one.”

Ray and I exchanged glances. I’m sure he was thinking the same as me. What happened to the remote? The key chain Danny claimed to have found in the car at Dr. Albert’s office had just a key and a metal letter P. Was the car the one his father had been driving or not?

Ray patted Danny’s shoulder. “You know what, bud, we’re not going to be able to solve this tonight. You have school tomorrow. You need to go to sleep. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to your dad tomorrow and we’ll figure this all out.”

Danny seemed satisfied. He allowed us to tuck him in bed. Ray and I kissed his cheeks and turned off his lamp.

When we got to our bedroom and climbed into bed, Ray and I conversed in whispers.

“What do you think happened to the remote, Ray?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think it fell off the key chain?”

“It’s possible.”

“Do you think someone stole it and planted the arm in the car?”

“Also possible. Anything’s possible, maybe just not probable.”

“What did Danny’s father say about the Camry?”

“Nothing. His lawyer’s trying to work some kind of a deal for his release, and, in the meantime, Danny’s father isn’t answering any questions.”

“But it was his car.”

“It was the dealership’s car. He may have stolen it. From what Danny says, he did. But none of what Danny tells us is going to be admissible in court, and Danny will never testify against him.”

“So what do we do now, Ray?”

He pulled me close and spooned. “We sleep.”

I wiggled out of his arms and sat up. “I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about this.”

“We can’t do anything tonight, Jolene. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Then do me a favor. Sit there quietly so I can sleep.”





I arose on Monday still filled with dire thoughts regarding Erica’s whereabouts, Danny’s father, Danny’s future, and, of course, my future. To top it all off, I had to face Principal Travis.

My day only got worse when I realized I couldn’t wear the stretch pants I’d had on for the last four days. My two-size drop meant I had to put on the same skirt I’d worn when I met her last week. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

At 8:55 a.m. the principal’s secretary escorted Danny and me to Mrs. Travis’ office for the second time within a week. This time I was exhausted, annoyed, and embarrassed. I had the Nintendo DS in my hand.

Danny managed to enter the office hiding behind my back. I could tell from the way Mrs. Travis craned her neck to catch sight of him. I stepped to the side so she could give him the full effect of her wrath.

Instead, she greeted us both warmly and offered us the chairs in front of her desk. I offered her the Nintendo, and she accepted it. She sat on the edge of her desk, holding it in her hand and towering over Danny, her warm smile still firmly in place.

“So, Danny, how did you come by this Nintendo?”

“I found it.” His eyes didn’t meet hers.

“Where?”

“On the floor, in the hall.”

“I see.” She turned it over in her hands. “Danny, you’re new to our school. We’d like to see you get off on the right foot. In this school, when we find something that doesn’t belong to us, we bring it to the office, and my secretary places it in the lost and found. I know a Nintendo is an exciting toy, but in the future, I hope you will remember to bring anything you find on the school grounds here. Is that fair?”

Danny nodded.

Mrs. Travis stood. “All right, Danny. You can head off to class. Mr. Mathews is looking forward to meeting you.”

With a final unreadable glance at me, Danny left. I stood to follow him, relieved that Mrs. Travis had let us both off so easily.

Mrs. Travis held up her hand. “Do you have just a few minutes more for me, Mrs. Parker?”

“Sure.” I sat again with reluctance.

Mrs. Travis rounded her desk and took her seat. She opened a file and flipped through the pages inside. “After I spoke with you last week, I read Danny’s file more carefully. I even placed a call to his old school. Danny is an unusual boy. His school attendance record is perfect. He’s never missed a day, not even for an illness. He’s been late only once or twice. Danny hands in all his homework. It’s not always correct, but it’s always done. His grades tend to be above average. His father attends every teacher conference. His father signs every report card. In those aspects, Danny is a model student.”

She closed the file and leaned back in her chair. “On the other hand, Danny never rides the bus. His father transported him to and from school. His old school does not believe Danny had any friendships outside of school. Some weeks, they suspected the only showers Danny had were the ones he asked to take after his physical education class. On occasion, Danny fell asleep during lectures. His classmates often couldn’t find their lunch money. Sometimes they couldn’t find other things as well. No one could prove it was Danny, but he was the prime suspect. It led to several fights.”

She fiddled with a paperclip lying on her desk. “I know you and your husband have only had Danny in your home for a few days. Your husband indicated Danny’s father might be in jail for some time to come. I think it’s important we all work together to make sure Danny benefits from this move to our school and your home.”

I nodded and waited for her to say more. She didn’t. She just smiled at me.

I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me. Wasn’t it a given that we were all working together in Danny’s best interests? Was she letting me know that she knew Danny was a thief? Was she trying to tell me Danny should ride the school bus? That I should help him make friends outside of school? Or was this her carefully worded way of letting me know this school wasn’t going to tolerate any nonsense from Danny?

Mrs. Travis continued to smile at me, clearly allowing me to draw my own conclusions. Instead, I decided to take the opportunity to find out what more she knew about Danny.

“We share your concerns about Danny, Mrs. Travis. In fact, Danny was very upset last night. He said his father won’t talk to him about his mother. Is there any information in the file about her?”

She tapped the file. “According to this, she passed away when he was two. At least, that’s what his father suggested to Danny’s kindergarten teacher during a teacher conference.”

So maybe Danny’s mother really wasn’t dead? “What was her name?”

Mrs. Travis flipped through the file and stopped at Danny’s birth certificate. “Jennifer James. She had Danny at age nineteen. She and Mr. Phillips lived at the same address in Newark. I don’t know if they were married.”

She flipped the file closed and seemed to hesitate before plunging on, “I don’t know if this information will be helpful to you or not, but Danny’s teachers weren’t certain Mr. Phillips knows how to read. They would show him samples of Danny’s completed assignments during the conferences, and he didn’t seem to comprehend the work.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know if it was important or helpful either, but instantly I felt sorry for the man. The inability to read would be a huge deficit in life. “Is there anything else in his file that you think might be helpful?”

“I’m afraid not. Most of it is Danny’s report cards and standardized test results, all of which tend to be above average, as I said. I think Danny’s old school worried more about what they didn’t know about Danny than what they were able to document.”

I thanked Mrs. Travis for her time and walked into the hallway. I had the overwhelming urge to peek into Danny’s classroom, just to make sure he was okay. I started to turn back to ask the secretary for permission then decided just to find my way.

The teachers’ names hung on the wall above their classroom numbers in the hallway. I walked down one hall without finding Mr. Mathews’ name. In the next, his door was second on the right. It was closed.

I sidled closer until I could see inside through the three-inch-wide window beginning a foot above the door handle.

Danny’s desk was in the third row, between two other boys. Danny was reading a book, as was the rest of the class. He looked …

absorbed. I guessed that was the best we could hope for on his first day.

Inside the room, a man moved past the door. I jerked away from the door and speed walked around the corner, hoping no one had spotted me. I didn’t know if a twelve-year-old would appreciate his “mother” looking in on him or not. I was quite sure he wouldn’t appreciate having his teacher whip open the classroom door and catch me in the act.

In the school parking lot, I used my cell phone to call Ray.

“Hey, Darlin’. How’d it go with the principal?”

“Okay. She said Danny’s old teachers suspected him of stealing from his classmates.”

“I heard when I picked up his file.”

“What else did you hear that you neglected to tell me, Ray?”

“I heard he was a good student, and his father was attentive.”

“Did you hear that the school wasn’t sure his father could read?”

“No.”

“Maybe he’s a thief because his prospects are limited.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“What’s the penalty for stealing a Cadillac Escalade?”

“He’s been charged with grand larceny in the fourth degree. That’s a Class E felony. For first offenders, the maximum sentence is four years in a state prison.”

I watched as a woman pulled into the space next to mine and hustled into the school carrying a tray of cupcakes. Would that be me one day? “Is his father a first offender?”

“He’s been in prison for armed robbery, when he was seventeen. He served nine years.”

“So he’s prone to violence.”

“His partner in crime pulled the gun. Even the bank clerk testified that Danny’s father seemed surprised.”

I felt some relief. “Is prison where his neck got sliced?”

“Yes.”

“Stealing cars seems like a step down from armed robbery.”

“Auto theft is a multimillion dollar business, Jolene. It’s the most expensive property crime in the U.S. More than a million cars are stolen every year, dismantled in chop shops and the stolen parts sold. Nationwide, only a little over ten percent of those thefts are cleared by arrest.”

Like he was telling me something I didn’t already know. “But why is Danny’s father stealing cars here in Wachobe? Most of New York’s auto thefts occur in the New York City area.”

“We think he planned to put the Escalade in a semi bound for the city.”

But instead, he got caught sitting behind the driver’s wheel, and now he faced more time in prison. Would Danny want to visit him there, too? If his father let him, Ray would have to take him to visit. The county jail already gave me the creeps. I couldn’t take a state prison. But surely Danny had to have other relatives.

“Principal Travis also told me Danny’s mother died when he was two, or at least, that’s what his father implied to his kindergarten teacher.”

“I can try asking his father again. He’s smart enough to take his right to remain silent seriously.”

Just our luck that criminals are getting smarter. “Doesn’t he have any other relatives?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“Mrs. Travis said the birth certificate listed the same Newark address for both of Danny’s parents. Do you think they might have family still living there?”

“Newark?”

I detected more than a hint of interest in Ray’s voice. “Yes, Newark. What about it?”

“The Escalade was reported stolen by a woman who gave a home address in Newark.”

“What was her name?”

“Hold on a minute.”

I heard Ray’s fingers clicking on the keyboard. “Her name’s James. Jessica James.”

Now we were getting lucky. Any chance she was related to Danny’s mother, Jennifer James?