“It doesn’t look as if she planned to be gone overnight.” Morgan spotted an inhaler behind the toiletry bag. The box was unopened, and the prescription label was dated the previous winter. “Does Olivia have a lung condition?”

“Not that I know of.” Sharp peered around the bathroom door to examine the box. “I’ve never seen her use an inhaler.”

“Maybe it was from an illness.” Morgan set the box back on the shelf and followed Sharp out of the bathroom.

Stella crouched next to the bed, examining something on the bamboo floor. “It looks like a piece of rubber.”

She donned gloves, then picked up the object by its edge. It was a beige-colored square of rubber about an inch wide.

“What is that?” Sharp asked.

“I have no idea.” Stella patted her pockets and produced a paper evidence envelope. She slid the piece of rubber inside. “I’ll have the lab take a look at it.” She stood.

They went into Olivia’s office. Bookshelves lined the walls.

Stella went to the desk and lifted the top of Olivia’s laptop. “It’s too early to take her computer and have the nerds hack into it.” She glanced over the surface of the desk and opened its drawers. “I don’t see anything out of order.”

Her phone buzzed again, and she silenced it. “Let me get out of here. The BOLO will go out as soon as I get to my car, and I’ll drop the evidence at the lab. If you learn anything, please let me know. I’ll do the same.” She gave Sharp a hug. “She’ll probably turn up tonight. Hang tight.”

He nodded, sat in Olivia’s office chair, and stared at her laptop.

Morgan walked her sister outside. Dead leaves were piled up against the picket fence that surrounded Olivia’s garden. Lance appeared from around the side of the house.

Stella showed him the piece of rubber in the evidence envelope. “Did you find anything?”

“Nothing. No marks outside the windows or doors. No footprints. Nothing amiss in her gardening shed.” Frustration tightened his face. “Where’s Sharp?”

“Inside,” Morgan said.

“I’m not sure what else we can do at this point.” Lance turned back to the house.

After he’d walked away, Morgan said goodbye to her sister, then followed Lance inside. She found him and Sharp in Olivia’s office. Olivia’s work space was as pristine as a museum. There wasn’t even a single coffee stain on the white blotter.

Looking lost, Sharp still sat behind the desk. He tapped the closed cover of Olivia’s laptop. “We’ll talk to her friends, family, and neighbors. If nothing pans out, we dig into her work files.”

“Sounds reasonable. Let’s make an action plan for this evening.” Morgan perched on the corner of the desk. “We’ll update it in the morning depending on what happens tonight.”

If Olivia didn’t come home.

“I want to drive the route to her parents’ house again. Maybe I missed some sign on our earlier trip.” Sharp scrubbed both hands down his face. “And I’ll talk to her parents.” He checked the time on his phone. “It’s almost five o’clock. I should be going. Her family must be panicking at this point.”

“Either Lance or I should go with you,” Morgan said.

Sharp shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

“You can’t look for Olivia’s car and drive at the same time,” Morgan argued.

“Morgan should go.” Lance pushed off the wall. “Olivia’s sister and mother might open up more to her.”

Sharp had mad skills getting people to talk to him, but Morgan went along with it. She didn’t want him to be alone or driving in his current state of distraction.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sharp said.

“While you two are gone, I’ll talk to her neighbors,” Lance offered. “And check her usual stops around town. Can you make a list of places she frequents? Does she have a favorite coffee shop or restaurant?”

“I’ll make a list.” Sharp opened the top desk drawer and took out a notepad.

“I’m going to call Grandpa and let the family know we won’t be home for dinner or bedtime.” Morgan left the office.

Lance followed her into the kitchen. He glanced at his phone. “I can still make bedtime. Questioning neighbors shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.”

Nodding, Morgan dialed her grandfather’s number. When he picked up the phone, she explained about Olivia being missing.

“Of course, we understand,” Grandpa said. “Don’t worry about the kids. Gianna and I have everything under control.”

Morgan was grateful for the thousandth time for her grandfather and her live-in nanny.

She heard a small voice in the background. “Is that Mommy?”

“Ava wants to talk to you. Hold on.” Grandpa handed the phone to Morgan’s seven-year-old daughter.

“Mommy, you promised to take us shopping for Halloween costumes tonight,” Ava said in a strident voice that carried into the room.

Morgan opened her mouth to apologize, but Lance tapped her arm and whispered, “I can do it.”

“Hold on, honey.” Morgan lowered her cell and covered the microphone. “Halloween isn’t for six more weeks. We have plenty of time.”

“But we did promise to take them tonight.” Lance looked at his watch. “I’ll be home by six thirty. Shopping for costumes won’t take more than an hour. I’ll have them in bed by eight.”

“Are you sure?” Morgan didn’t doubt his ability to care for the girls, but Halloween generated a level of excitement surpassed only by Christmas. The girls would be revved up.

“Positive,” Lance said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Morgan raised the phone to her ear. “Lance said he’ll take you tonight.”

“Yay!” Ava squealed. In the background, her sisters echoed her enthusiasm.

Morgan moved the phone a few inches from her ear. When the high-pitched sounds stopped, she and Ava exchanged I love yous, and Morgan disconnected.

Sharp emerged from Olivia’s office. “Let’s roll.”

Morgan kissed Lance goodbye. “One costume each. No negotiating. And don’t let them talk you into buying the candy at the register. I love you.”

“Love you too. See you at home. Good luck.”

Hopefully, one of Olivia’s friends or family members would have information about her whereabouts. But as Morgan followed Sharp out the door, she couldn’t shake the apprehension roiling like storm clouds in her belly. Whatever had happened to Olivia hadn’t been good.

Chapter Seven

Lance approached the house diagonal to Olivia’s, a blue Cape Cod with red shutters. At five thirty, people were returning home from work. He’d already driven to the organic grocery store and Perk Up, a local café.

No one had seen Olivia that day.

He’d had no luck at the first few houses he’d visited either. None of the residents had seen Olivia for several days. Most people had jobs and didn’t spend much time outside unless it was the weekend.

He walked up two steps, stood on the front stoop, and rang the doorbell. Inside the house, a small dog exploded into a frenzy of high-pitched barking.