Sharp recognized the small diamond stud as one of Olivia’s staple pieces of jewelry. “An earring.”

Lance stuck a note to the concrete near the earring.

Checking the floor before setting each foot down, Sharp searched in a spiral pattern. He spotted a glint of metal near the base of the overhead door, where the hatchback of Olivia’s Prius would have been located. “Here’s the second earring.”

“Maybe she was getting something big out of the back of her car and knocked her earrings loose,” Lance suggested.

“I don’t know.” Sharp didn’t like it. “I could buy her losing one earring, but two? And breaking a nail on the doorjamb?”

They went back into the house. Sharp rubbed his solar plexus. Behind it, fear coiled itself into a tight ball.

Where is she?

Chapter Six

Morgan watched the tow truck drive away with Mrs. Olander’s vehicle secured on the flatbed. The Scarlet Falls patrol car pulled away from the curb and followed.

She stared at the empty space where the minivan had been parked. The wind blew, and a few dead leaves tumbled along the gutter. The street showed no sign that a woman had taken her life there just a few hours before.

I am not responsible.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy to shelve Mrs. Olander’s desperation and despondency. But finding Olivia took priority, and Morgan was relieved to lock up the office and leave. She arrived at Olivia’s bungalow a few minutes later. When Sharp opened the front door, she followed him back to Olivia’s kitchen.

Lance crossed the room to give her a quick kiss. “Any luck with the hospitals?” He didn’t ask about morgues, even though he knew she’d have called those as well.

“None,” she said. “I checked with all the hospitals within a hundred miles of here. No sign of Olivia or any Jane Does that fit her description.”

“I’m going to check the outside of the house.” Lance went out the front door.

Sharp paced the kitchen like a trapped animal. Morgan’s heart bled for him. Sharp kept his world small, but he’d fallen hard for Olivia, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it.

Stella arrived. Morgan let her sister in and led her to the kitchen.

“You have a key?” Stella asked Sharp.

“Yes,” Sharp answered. “And the codes for her alarm system. Thanks for coming. I know a detective wouldn’t normally be the first responder.”

A uniform on patrol would have taken the initial report. A detective would have been summoned only if the uniform found evidence of foul play.

He walked Stella back to the laundry room, pointed out the broken fingernail, and explained the call from Olivia’s mother. He showed Stella the earrings in the garage. Normally athletic, his movements were jerky and agitated as he identified the small bits of seemingly random evidence.

Stella wrote on her notepad. “Was the alarm set and the house locked when you let yourself in?”

“Yes,” Sharp answered. “The alarm had been turned off and reactivated at 2:13 a.m. this morning.”

“Olivia was supposed to meet with us at the office this afternoon as well,” Morgan said.

Stella walked through the house. She checked doors and windows and then returned to the kitchen. “I don’t see any signs of a break-in or struggle. The most obvious explanation is Olivia left the house to meet someone. Maybe a contact for a story she was working on.”

“Jenny Kruger already pinged her cell phone. Nothing, and Olivia’s last call on her cell was with me at eleven. I didn’t check the house phone.” Sharp reached for the handset and checked the call log on the caller ID screen. “Two missed calls from a market research company today. No calls came in last night.”

Stella propped one hand on her hip, her brow furrowed with thought. “I’ll fill out a report.” Contrary to public belief, a person did not have to be missing for any specific length of time in order to be reported missing. Trails ran cold quickly, and police appreciated being brought in as early as possible. But the extent of their investigation would depend on the particular circumstances.

Stella continued, “I’ll also put out a BOLO alert. The SFPD, county sheriff’s deputies, and state police will be looking for her car. Hang on while I grab a blood evidence collection kit.” She retrieved the kit from her car, then photographed and swabbed the smear and bagged the fingernail as evidence. She pulled fingerprints from the doorknobs, molding, and light switches.

“It would be most efficient if we coordinate our efforts,” Stella said when she had finished.

“Right,” Sharp agreed. “We’ll talk to family, friends, and neighbors. Morgan has already called local hospitals.”

“Copy me on everything.” Stella packed up her kit.

With her partner on vacation, Stella would have to juggle cases. She also had to respect privacy laws. In contrast, Sharp, Lance, and Morgan could drop everything and focus on the search for Olivia. And Sharp could—and would—ignore the law and hack away as he pleased.

Stella wrote down a physical description of Olivia. “Does she have any identifying tattoos or birthmarks?”

“No.” Sharp shook his head.

“Chronic medical conditions?” Stella asked.

“None that she’s mentioned to me,” Sharp said. “But I’ll ask her mother.”

Stella’s phone buzzed. She looked at the screen without removing it from her belt. Frowning, she silenced it with her thumb.

Sharp rubbed his forehead, his movements unsteady. His relationship with Olivia had been progressing in a slow-but-steady fashion. Though both Sharp and Olivia were stubbornly set in their ways, there was something special about their relationship.

“Do you know what she was wearing last night?” Stella asked. “Did you video chat?”

“It was a phone call,” he said. “I don’t know what she was wearing, but she’s usually in her pajamas at that hour.”

“Is her suitcase or cosmetic bag missing?” Stella asked.

“I haven’t looked yet.” Sharp swept one hand over his scalp. “And I wouldn’t know what they look like anyway.”

The three of them walked back to Olivia’s bedroom. Sharp opened the walk-in closet.

“Are any clothes missing?” Morgan joined him in the closet. The racks and shelves were jam-packed with clothes and shoes. “I guess it’s impossible to say.”

“There’s a suitcase.” Sharp pointed toward an upper shelf, where a hard-shell carry-on was stowed. Then he led the way out of the closet.

“What about a toiletry kit? What would she use for a trip?” Morgan had reservations about invading Olivia’s privacy, but she pushed them aside and went into the bathroom. Olivia would understand.

Sharp looked over Morgan’s shoulder. “I don’t know. We haven’t traveled together. When she stays over at my place, she goes home to get ready if she has an early appointment.”

The medicine chest was full of high-end, mostly organic, and fair-trade cosmetics. Olivia shared Sharp’s green streak. In a narrow linen closet behind the bathroom door, Morgan found a travel toiletry kit and a waterproof TSA-approved bag full of travel-size liquids.