Free Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) by Sue Ann Jaffarian Page B

everyone’s information, such as name, address, telephone number, and emergency contact. I had it on the table beside me. After checking Erica’s address, I looked it up on Google Maps. Erica lived on a cul-de-sac in Newport Beach just off Jamboree Road. I knew the area. It was a quiet housing development of nice homes near the Back Bay, not far from Fashion Island Mall. There was both a home phone and a cell phone listed on the sheet. Erica’s emergency contact was Connie Holt, Lily’s mother. There was no secondary contact. I circled the phone number for Connie, then did a reverse lookup.
    A few years ago I had subscribed to an online search engine for finding people. There were some free services out there, but this one had proved to be worth the money and often gave me information most folks thought was unlisted, including things like household income, real estate values, and educational backgrounds. It was paying off right now. Connie’s number produced an address in Irvine and her husband’s name—Harrison—although I remembered Alyce referring to him as Hank. According to the website, Connie was in her late thirties, Hank in his early forties. The combined household income was just under two hundred thousand a year. It listed one child under five years of age—no name or gender.
    “You having any luck?” Greg asked from his spot at the stove.
    “A bit. At least I have addresses and telephone numbers, which is a good start.” I closed my laptop.
    Greg had finished cooking supper and had lifted Lily down to the floor. In her outstretched hands he placed a dinner plate piled with grilled cheese sandwiches. Lily carried the plate with pride and care. When she reached me, I took it from her and placed it on the table.
    “Thank you, Lily. What a good helper you are.” The child beamed and babbled about how she had cooked the “sand witches.”
    I settled Lily on top of a couple of cushions placed in a kitchen chair, wrapped a dish towel around her neck for a bib, and pulled her close to the table. Greg rolled over with a large serving bowl of cream of tomato soup.
    “How many sand witches are you planning on Lily eating?” I asked Greg, casting an eye to the pile on the plate.
    “What? There’s only five—two each for us and one for Lily.” Greg put the soup on the table. “I made three with plain American cheese and two with cheddar and tomatoes.”
    “And basil?” I asked hopefully.
    “Fresh chopped basil, just like you love it.”
    I got up and went to Greg, giving him a sound kiss on the mouth. He returned the kiss, taking a little longer with his. Next to us, Lily giggled and wiggled. “Me,” she insisted. “Kiss Lily, Cheese-head Squirrel.”
    I leaned over and gave Lily a noisy smackaroo on her forehead. She squealed with delight. Maybe we shouldn’t have given up so easily on the adoption thing.
    “What did she call you?” Greg asked as he dished soup into two thick mugs.
    “Um, Cheesehead Squirrel.” I said the name in a quick, low, barely audible voice, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
    “Don’t give her very much,” I told him as he spooned soup into a small plastic bowl for Lily. “I don’t know if she’ll eat it. And let it cool a bit before giving it to her.”
    Greg put the ladle down. “Cheesehead Squirrel? How did she come up with that?”
    “Beats me.” I cut one of the American cheese sandwiches into quarters and put two of them on Lily’s plate. She grabbed one with the same gusto she’d attacked the chicken fingers with earlier in the day. I was two for two so far on food, thanks to a waitress and Zee.
    “Did she say that in front of Steele at lunch today?” my husband asked with a wicked grin.
    I sighed. “That’s where she came up with it, and totally on her own.”
    “He must have loved it.”
    “Yep.” I took a bite of my sandwich, letting the flavors of the sharp cheese, cool tomato, and peppery basil melt together in my mouth.
    “Cheesehead