Every move I made, every step I took, was fashioned with a singular focus in mind. I had to be careful not to look at Cookie. Her hair had been only partially teased, which meant it looked like a hairball with spikes on her head. I’d studied something similar in advanced biology in high school. Knowing a virus like that existed in the world had scared me, had given me nightmares. Or it might have if I’d cared. But I was in high school. All I cared about was boys.

Still, seeing it in person sent a tiny quiver of terror lacing down my spine. Terror that I’d burst out laughing and embarrass her. I had to force myself not to snort every time I looked her way. I had to focus. Concentrate. Channel my inner ninja. They had lots of focus.

“What’s up?” I asked Kit as I showed them to our makeshift living room.

I had a feeling the room had formerly been an area for silent reflection for the sisters. I could only hope God wouldn’t mind that we’d turned it into a place to entertain guests. On the plus side, we’d partied in it only once. Last night, actually. But I didn’t drink, so I was safe from any ramifications we might incur as a result of partying in a house of God. Cookie, on the other hand, was screwed six ways to Sunday. Poor kid.

“I have something I want you to look into,” Kit said. “But just so you know, Special Agent Waters was very against my coming here.”

I turned to the man trailing behind us. “You must be Special Agent Waters.”

“I am,” he said, his tone brusque. The energy radiating off him fairly vibrated. He was seething underneath his starched collar. So this would be fun.

All in all, he was very nice looking. Medium height. Slim build. Exotic coloring. His accent would suggest a local upbringing. I got the feeling that in his spare time he liked wearing feather boas and singing karaoke. But that could just be me projecting.

“I’m sorry to hear you won’t be happy with my involvement.”

“I just don’t think there’s anything you can do. I don’t understand why we’re here.” He shot Kit a hard gaze.

My protective instincts bucked inside me, but I smiled as graciously as I could. “Well, I hope to disappoint you.”

I’d startled him. After a moment, he said, “If you can do what Agent Carson says you can, the last thing I’ll be is disappointed.”

“Wonderful.” I showed them to our limited seating choices, which consisted of a couch, a chair, and a wood bench under a large, bright window. “Then we’re in agreement.”

The moment we crossed the threshold, I stopped mid-stride, almost causing a three-person pileup behind me. But something had registered in my periphery, and I had to turn to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me.

They weren’t.

He was here.

Mr. Wong was hovering in a corner of my living room, just like back at my apartment in Albuquerque. He had never moved from the corner back home in the three years I lived there. Not once. And he was already there when I’d rented the apartment. I just figured he came with it as an amenity, like granite countertops or radiant heating. But now he was here. Hovering. Nose in the corner as always. Toes inches off the floor. Nothing at all had changed except his location.

Artemis noticed him, too. Her stubby tail wagged so fast, it blurred like the wings of a bumblebee. She tugged at his pant leg. Crouched down. Barked. Rolled onto her back with a whine as I stood there, stunned. Cookie covered for me, leading our guests all the way into the makeshift living room. I wanted to cry out Mr. Wong’s name, run to him, and throw my arms around him. I’d missed him so. But doing so would probably freak out my unwitting guests.

Agent Waters took the chair and left us womenfolk the couch. Giving up on Mr. Wong, Artemis trotted to the bench and splayed across it to get some sun. I finally forced one foot in front of the other and strolled over to join the gang. As we sat down, we once again did our best to avoid looking at Cookie. It was rather like trying to avoid the hovering ghost in the room. At least for me.

“So, what’s up?” I asked Kit after pulling myself together. My mind had instantly jumped to a thousand different reasons Mr. Wong might be there. Departed were showing up by the truckloads, kind of like distant relatives during the holidays. And now Mr. Wong? Why? How did he get here? How had he even found me? Like sands through the hourglass, those were the questions of my life.

Some of them. I actually had quite a few more.

Kit handed me a file. I shook out of my stupor, opened the file, and looked at the picture of a beautiful young girl. She had large, expressive eyes and a sweet smile.

“Missing persons case,” Kit said. “Fourteen-year-old female. Last seen with friends at a park in Bernalillo. Her parents noticed she was missing when she didn’t come home—”

“—from school one day,” I finished for her, scanning the file. “I saw this on the news. Faris Waters.” I looked up at Special Agent Waters and saw the resemblance immediately.

“She’s been gone for two weeks,” he said.

“Is she your daughter?” The anger and helplessness radiating out of him would certainly indicate that.

“My niece.”

I bowed my head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry we’re wasting your time when you clearly have better things to do.”

“Not at all,” I said, ignoring his double meaning—as in, I was wasting their time—as I thumbed through the pages, looking for the vital clues. A dark green pickup with tinted windows was seen driving through the area for hours at a time several days before Faris’s abduction. It hadn’t been seen since. “According to this, she was supposed to meet some friends to go to a party after school, but she never showed up.”

“Her parents didn’t know anything about the party, but her texts would suggest that was her plan. A classmate was having a birthday party that Friday afternoon.”

“I’ll need those texts and all her emails,” I said without looking up. “I’ll also need a list of her closest friends and their contact information.”

Kit took out a memo pad and started taking notes. “You got it. I’ll get you everything we have by the end of the day.”

Agent Waters stood and turned to look out the window. His frustration level showed in the rigid set of his shoulders.

“Agent Waters,” Kit said, a hard edge to her voice.

He turned back. “Why are we here? We’re wasting time. What can she do that we haven’t already done?”

Kit stood. “Jonny, I told you. She solves cases. It’s what she does. She’s very good at it. These two ladies,” she said, pointing to both Cookie and me, “have solved cases that were considered unsolvable. They have closed three cold cases for me over the past year. They found evidence where no one else thought to look. Remember that scumbag in Alaska? That was them.”

I was thrilled that she’d included Cookie in her praises. I couldn’t do anything without my sidekick.

Agent Waters, or Jonny, raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. I was surprised he had any left when he was finished.

“Now, sit down and pay attention,” Kit continued. Her tone was alarming and very curious. These two clearly had a history, especially if the glare he gave her was any evidence.

He rounded the chair and sat back down.

“Have you interviewed all her friends?”

This time the glare was directed toward me. Agent Waters was taking my questions as an indication that he was incompetent. I didn’t mean that at all, but he was clearly sensitive about the case.

“Why the guilt?” I asked him. I felt it there, weaker than the other emotions shooting out of him, but it was there nonetheless.

“What?” He acted as though I’d slapped him.

“You feel guilty. Why?”

When he spoke next, he did so through gritted teeth. “Fuck you.”

I braced for an attack. If that upset him, what I was about to say was likely to send him over the edge. “Until you explain why you feel guilty, I’m going to have to consider you a suspect.”