“Two adults?” I asked.

Carmen said, “Yes. One mom and one dad. One, two… five kids. Or six? What do you get?”

I counted again. “I get six. How old is Holly’s sister? She tell you that when you talked to her yesterday?”

“If this is the one I think, she’s five years older than Holly. Jeez, Sam, think-that poor woman has been pregnant almost every other day of her life since her eighteenth birthday.”

The members of Holly’s oldest sister’s brood were dressed like kids, in sharp distinction to Artie’s offspring, who were dressed as though they expected a relative to die during dinner and Artie wanted to be certain they were prepared to attend an immediate funeral.

The newly arrived posse broke ranks as they moved toward Holly’s front door. Running. Laughter. Teasing.

“Wait,” Carmen said. “I get three adults now.”

“Yep, me too. The blonde is Holly’s sister?”

“I guess,” Carmen replied. “Who’s the other one, then, the woman with the dark hair?”

I didn’t answer. Holly answered the door, and the passel of nieces and nephews funneled inside, followed by the blond woman and then the rotund brother-in-law with the big smile. Everybody got either a hug or a kiss or both. The woman with the dark hair stood patiently on that classic Craftsman-style porch holding a covered dish, waiting for her turn to arrive. Once her relatives were safely inside the house, Holly stepped out to speak with the woman. Holly’s head was tilted to one side the whole time.

After listening for about thirty seconds, Holly took the woman by the elbow and guided her farther from the door. They talked for another minute or so, their faces only a foot apart.

“A friend? Neighbor?” Carmen conjectured.

“Maybe.” I didn’t want to come to any conclusions at that point. I wanted to observe.

The covered dish finally changed hands, some final words were spoken, and the woman stepped down from the porch without a hug or kiss from Holly. She walked down the sidewalk away from the house, which was also away from me and Carmen. Holly hesitated a second at the door before she stepped back into the house. Had she looked our way before she went inside? I wasn’t sure.

I figured she figured I was close by.

I checked my cell phone to make sure it was on. It was.

“Want me to follow her?” Carmen asked.

She was talking about the covered dish lady. That didn’t surprise me. She was asking me what I wanted her to do. That did. “Don’t think so. You’re probably right. Just a neighbor.”

Carmen said, “I’m getting hungry. You?”

“Always. You think maybe we could get Holly to bring us a plate? Her turkey will come out of the oven soon. I bet they end up eating around seven, maybe a little after.”

She reached into her purse and offered me an energy bar. “You might get a plate, Sam. Not me.”

I shocked myself; I took the bar. “If I get any turkey and stuffing, I’ll share,” I said. “Promise.”

Six forty-five. Night had arrived under slate gray skies.

I said, “Turkey’s coming out of the oven right about now. I’m going to do a stroll around the block again, see if I can work up an appetite.”

It had been a joke, but Carmen missed it. She put a hand on my arm. “We wasting our time?” she asked.

“Probably.”

“How long can we last? Just the two of us, I mean? Tomorrow morning? What then?”

I’d thought about that, too. “I’m hoping something new develops with the investigation, something we can use to get the local police willing to help keep an eye on Holly. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll go talk to Holly again, see if I can get her to go stay with one of her sisters in Chicago for the weekend.”

“I know which sister I’d choose.”

“Yeah. Artie doesn’t seem likely to have a dominant good-host gene, does he?”

“I’m sorry about your holiday, Sam.”

“Company’s good, Carmen. That helps.”

She didn’t miss that I said that. Her hand was still on my arm. The pressure changed. “Sam? Before you go, call Gibbs. Do you mind?”

“I didn’t think you were that attached to Gibbs’s well-being.”

“I’m not. I was just thinking that if Gibbs has seen Sterling in Colorado, then we’re all done here, right? You and me, we can pack up and go someplace together and, you know… eat.”

My heart hiccoughed during the hesitation at the end of Carmen’s sentence. Missed a beat? Double beat? I couldn’t tell. “I can do that.” I pulled out my cell phone, fit my reading glasses on my nose, checked for Gibbs’s number in the memory, and dialed. She answered after three rings.

“Hello,” she said.

The sound of Gibbs’s voice moved me like the refrain of an old song. I knew it wasn’t right that it happened that way. But it did.

“It’s Sam. Hey, how you doing?”

“Did Alan Gregory tell you to call?”

What was that about?“Nah. Just wanted to be sure you’re safe. We haven’t talked. Where are you?”

“Vail. A motel.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Low clouds. It’s okay.”

“Here, too. Low clouds. Gray.”

“I hear the South is like that sometimes.”

She sounded cryptic. Maybe she was aggravated to be alone on the holiday in a motel. I could relate to that.

“I’m not in Georgia anymore. I drove north. I’m up in Indiana.”

“You are? Why on earth would you go to Indiana? Where?”

“Currently, South Bend.”

“Really? Do you have family there? Is that it?”

“No, my family’s up in Minnesota for the holiday. I’m following up a long shot. A tip we got. Probably a waste of time. You’re okay? You haven’t heard from Sterling? Seen him anywhere?”

“I guess I’m okay. I feel terrible that my problems have kept you away from your loved ones on Thanksgiving. You shouldn’t have to do that. I wish you’d just go get on a plane and go be with your family. I’ll pay. That would make me feel better. Will you do that? Just go to the airport right this minute?”

“No Sterling?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m fine, Gibbs. Don’t concern yourself with me. You try to make the best of your holiday, but stay vigilant, okay? You’ll do that? Keep an eye out for Sterling. Give me a call if anything makes you nervous?”

“I promise. Good-bye, Sam.”

I closed the phone. “He’s not there.”

Carmen said, “Thanks for trying.”

I’d stiffened up. Let’s say pulling myself from behind the wheel to get out of the car wasn’t one of the most graceful things I’d ever done.

Holly’s house had a three-foot chain-link fence around the backyard. Since the house was on a corner, it was possible to get a real good look around the entire property by strolling the sidewalk. With ten kids inside I could hear noise and laughter from the house half a block away. I turned around at that point and retraced my steps toward the house.

On my first pass around the corner nothing had seemed amiss. On the way back, though, the latch on the backyard gate had been moved to a different position. The gate hook was one of those horseshoe latches that raise up to allow the gate to swing open and then slide back down to horizontal to lock everything into place. I was sure it was down during my first pass.

It was up during the second.

I crossed the street and phoned Carmen.

“It’s me. The latch on the back gate. You know the one?”

“The chain link?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yeah, I know it.”

“Was it up or down when you last came by?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Why?”

“It’s up now. I thought I remembered it being down.”

“There’s a houseful of kids in there, Sam. One of them must have run outside for something.”

“I guess. Can you see it from where you are?”

She hesitated. “No, I don’t have a good view of the gate from here.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

I crossed back across the street, waiting in the dark shadows of a big tree I thought might be an oak, and I watched the rear of the house. Laughter, chatter, kitchen activity. An occasional child’s yell. Just what you’d expect.