neighborhood. Thought Iâd drop by.â
She put down her own phone with great care and tried to compose herself. At least this time she had the advantage of being the one on the business side of a desk.
âIs the dramatic entrance one of the tricks of the trade, Mr. Truax?â
âLike I said, we need to have a conversation and we need to have it right now.â He started toward one of the two client chairs positioned across from her desk. Then he noticed the three black-and-white shots of Nightwinds and stopped. âWho took those?â
âI did.â
âHuh.â
âForget the pictures, Mr. Truax.â She sat forward, impatient and anxious, and folded her hands on the desk. âSit down and tell me exactly what is going on.â
He took one last look at the three photos and then obligingly settled into a chair. She immediately regretted asking him to take a seat. The expensive upholstery on her client chairs had never been intended to withstand dirty work clothes.
Ethan appeared oblivious to any impact he might be making on her precious chair. Lounging back against the honey-colored leather, he extended his legs and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. He removed a small notepadfrom the pocket of his shirt and flipped it open.
âI found no evidence to indicate the Mrs. Jennifer Mason is celebrating her newly acquired status as a soon-to-be divorced woman.â He studied his notes. âShe has not used any credit cards recently. She has not used an ATM machine to remove any cash from the coupleâs joint checking account nor has she written any checks on that account.â He looked up. âThe account is still open, by the way. Davis Mason has not bothered to close it.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âWild guess? Heâs not particularly worried that his soon-to-be-ex will clean out the account.â
âOh.â This was going to be as bad as she had feared.
âJennifer Mason appears to have had no close friends here in town. Iâm still checking that angle, but itâs not looking good. She was not a longtime resident of Whispering Springs and apparently the only socializing she did after her marriage was when she helped Mason entertain business clients. That was not a frequent occurrence.â
âRelatives?â Zoe inquired.
âJust a couple of distant cousins and an elderly aunt who live in Indiana. I called them this morning. None of them have heard from her recently nor is anyone concerned. They all said that they hadnât seen Jennifer since she was a child and had lost contact years ago. Not what youâd call a close family.â
âIn other words, no one is going to rush to file a missing persons report.â
âUnlikely,â Ethan said. âThere is one more thing. I checked the legal angle. There is no divorce in progress.â
This was definitely the worst-case scenario, she thought. Jennifer Mason fit the classic profile of an abused wife who enjoyed no close contact with family or friends. What was she going to do now?
She picked up a pen to give herself something to do, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles whitened. âThank you for looking into the matter for me, Mr. Truax. Do Iowe you anything more than the minimum I paid you yesterday?â
âOh, yeah. A lot more.â
She frowned. âHow much?â
âLetâs start with some answers. What do you think happened to Jennifer Mason?â
She said nothing.
âDid you know her before she disappeared?â
âNo. Never met her.â
âYou think Mason murdered his wife, donât you?â
She hesitated and then nodded, saying nothing.
âThatâs a fairly serious conclusion,â Ethan said dryly. âMind if I ask what it was that made you jump to it?â
âJust a bad feeling I got when I went out to view his residence yesterday.â
âA bad feeling,â he repeated