stayed here about a month ago.” He nodded to Sophie and she held out the phone to show Lauren’s picture.
“I’m her sister,” Sophie said. “This is Lauren.”
The clerk’s eyes widened. “You say she’s missing?”
“Yes. Do you remember her, or could you check your records?”
“I don’t have to check the records. She was here. I remember.”
* * *
SOPHIE FUMBLED WITH the phone, almost dropping it. “Lauren was here? Are you sure?” Her voice shook. Rand put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her.
The clerk nodded. “I recognized her from the TV, but she was obviously trying to hide her identity. I mean, she registered as Jane Smith or something like that, and paid cash for the room.”
“You didn’t think that was suspicious?” Rand asked.
“Well, yeah, but people do weird things all the time, and you learn not to ask questions.” She tucked a strand of cotton-candy-colored hair behind one ear. “Then she met up with a guy, and I figured they were having an affair.” She shrugged. “It happens.”
“A guy?” Sophie leaned across the counter. “Who was the guy? What did he look like?”
Rand squeezed her shoulder to quiet her. She was going to scare off the clerk, who looked alarmed. He double-checked the girl’s name badge. “I promise you won’t get into any trouble, Marlee. Just tell us what you remember.”
She shrugged again. “He was just a real ordinary-looking guy—early forties, maybe. Light brown hair cut short, not too tall, not too big.”
“Did he register also?”
She shook her head. “And that’s really the only reason I remember him. I was getting off my shift and I saw him standing with Jane Smith outside her room. Then he took a suitcase—one of those little overnight bags—from his car and went inside with her. That’s against the rules—to have someone staying in the room who isn’t registered, but it was no skin off my nose, you know? I was in a hurry to get home and I wasn’t going to take the trouble to go back inside and report her. Like I said, it happens.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to the police?” Sophie asked. “Didn’t you see the story about Lauren being missing?”
“I knew she wasn’t doing the news lately, but they said something about her being on vacation, and then I just kind of forgot. I don’t watch a lot of TV and I mean, I wasn’t a hundred percent certain it was her, and I didn’t want to look stupid—and you’re the first people to come around asking questions.”
Rand didn’t have to look at Sophie to know she was glaring at him. Maybe she was right. Maybe they should have taken her sister’s disappearance more seriously and made it a point to ask questions before now, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do was try to do a better job going forward.
“Had you ever seen the man before?” he asked. “Or have you seen him since?”
Marlee shook her head so hard her earrings jangled. “I don’t think so. But like I said, he was nothing special.”
“Was it this guy?” He pulled up a website on his phone that featured an article about Richard Prentice and turned the phone so that she could see it.
She squinted at the photo of a man in his late forties, with thick dark hair, graying at the temples. “The guy I saw was younger, with lighter hair. That’s not him.”
“Thanks.” He pocketed the phone once more. “You’ve been a big help. We might have more questions for you later. In the meantime, could you tell us when Ms. Starling checked out?”
She went to the computer and began typing. “The reservation was prepaid and she did express checkout,” she said. “The next morning. So she was only here for the one night.”
“Express checkout meaning she left the key in the room and you never saw her?” Rand asked.
“That’s right. I wasn’t on duty the next morning, but the record shows express checkout.”
“We’ll want to talk to whoever was on duty that morning.”
“That would be Candy. She comes on at three today if you want to come back.”
“Someone will stop by. Thanks.”
He could tell Sophie wanted to say more, but he ushered her back to the car. “Maybe they have surveillance pictures,” she said. “We could ask to see them.”
“We could—and we will. But chances are they’re on a tape loop that gets wiped every twenty-four to seventy-two hours. Otherwise the databank fills up with hours and hours of images of empty parking lots.” He started the car. “Does the man she described sound like anyone you know? A boyfriend of your sister’s? Her ex-husband?”
“Her ex was a big blond, and she wasn’t dating anyone. She would have told me if she was.”
“Maybe not if he was married, or she had some other reason to keep the relationship secret.”
“She would have told me.”
She sounded so certain. But how could she know another person so well? Then again, he was an only child. Maybe some siblings were closer. “Everybody has secrets,” he said.
“Lauren and I don’t have secrets from each other. We’re the only family we have left, and we’ve stayed close.”
The fervor in her voice struck a faint, almost forgotten longing within him. Growing up as an only child to older parents, he’d often wished for a brother or sister—someone who would share his background and upbringing, and always be there. “I hope if anything ever happens to me, I have someone like you fighting for me.” He meant the words. As much as he still thought they were wasting time searching for her sister, who was probably off in Cancún with her boyfriend, he admired Sophie’s determination to find and help Lauren.
The soft strains of classical music rose from the floorboard near her feet. “That’s my phone,” she said, reaching for her purse. She fished out a pink iPhone and glanced at the screen. “I need to get this.”
“Go right ahead.” He focused on driving the cruiser through heavy traffic near a school zone, but he couldn’t help overhearing her side of the conversation.
“Hello?...Yes, this is she...Oh! Thank you for returning my call...Yes...Yes...Well, as I tried to explain in my message...All right...Yes...That would be fine...Yes...Goodbye.”
She ended the call and rested the phone in her lap, her expression troubled. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“I think so.” She turned to him, her determined expression once more in place. “That was Richard Prentice. He wants to meet with me to talk about Lauren.”
Sophie clutched the dash to steady herself as Rand swerved the cruiser to the side of the road, tires squealing and gravel popping as they skidded to a stop. He shifted into Park and turned to face her. From the back, the dog let out a bark of protest. “Sorry, girl,” he called. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, radiating strength and more than a little anger. “You told us you didn’t know Richard Prentice,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “That you’d never heard of him.”
“I don’t!” she protested. “I hadn’t.”
“Then how does he have your cell number?”
“After I found his business card in Lauren’s apartment, I called the number and left a message. When he didn’t call back after a couple of days, I figured he wasn’t interested.” She was not going