It was raining when Nora and her partner, Jeff Dukes pulled up to the small, mid-century home. They both sat looking at the house through the windows for a moment.

“This was Lacy and her mother’s home at the time of her disappearance,” Nora said. The house had been kept well, new roof, manicured yard, no chipping paint.

“The mother, uhh...Sarah Cooper, lived here until about five years ago,” Dukes said, flipping through the pages hidden in the manila folder, “when she died of cancer. Now a couple by the name of Anderson live here.”

The front door of the house swung open and a little boy no older than four hopped onto the front porch. He was wearing a red rain slicker and yellow boots. Brown curls poked out from beneath bright yellow souwester. His mother followed him out and locked the door while he jumped into a shallow puddle giggling at the splashes of water.

“Let’s go,” said Nora, opening the car door and making her way toward the woman. She could hear Dukes following behind, opening his umbrella. Nora ignored his offer of shelter and moved toward the woman.

“Good morning, Leslie Anderson? I’m Special Agent Jeff Dukes. This is my partner Nora Pyne. We’d like to ask you a few questions. Do you have a minute?”

The usual look of confusion and panic crossed the woman’s face. Nora imagined she was running through a list of people in her life who could have done something heinous enough to bring them to her door.

“Sure,” she said. “Davey and I were just headed to the grocery store. It can wait. Davey, stay on the porch while Mommy talks over here.”

She moved over to them and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

Bill was useless against a smile like this, all teeth and motherliness. She was surprised to see Dukes didn’t seem to notice. He pulled out his notepad and pen and prepared to capture what she said.

“We are looking into an old case that happened around here in 1983,” Nora said.

“The disappearance of Lacy Cooper? We’ve only been here five years or so. Wouldn’t know anything other than news and gossip,” Mrs. Anderson said. She threw a quick glance to check on Davey, a fleeting look of sadness on her face.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” Dukes said and turned to leave.

“Actually,” Nora started, giving Dukes a confused look, “it’s the gossip that may help us.”

What the hell was he doing, she wondered. There are always follow-up questions. Always more to ask. Ways to get in. Never give up that easily.

Dukes stopped mid-step and turned to face the women.

Nora continued. “People talk. Especially in a community like this. You may have heard something we missed.”

“There isn’t really much,” Ms. Anderson said, sighing and shaking her head. “Before Davey was even born a few women in the neighborhood warned me about keeping him close. Said there was dirty business a few years ago and a little girl went missing. That’s all I really know.”

“Did they say what kind of dirty business?” asked Nora.

“Creepy house. Creepy man. Quiet wife. Weird kid. The usual neighborhood tittle-tattle. I always figured it was something the housewives whispered about between soaps and mimosas. Nothing serious.”

“Did you get any names?” asked Dukes.

“For the creepy guy? Brown? Brooks? Something like that. I’m not sure.”

“What about the women who told you about him?”

“Mrs. Owens across the street, Margie Messer, but she moved last year, and Laura Wright. She lives two houses down. Davey, stop that! Is there anything else? I really need to get going.” said Mrs. Anderson. Davey had left the safety of the porch and was picking up fistfulls of mud from the flowerbed and throwing it on the steps.

“Thank you for your help, Mrs. Anderson,” Noa said. She watched as the woman hurried to stop the boy from grabbing another handful. His eyes sparkled and laughter erupted from his cupid’s bow mouth as he attempted to evade his mother’s grasp.

“Cute kid,” said Dukes.

“Yeah,” Nora responded. She let her eyes linger a moment too long on the happy scene before her.

“You have kids?”

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“Let’s go,” Nora said, walking toward the house across the street. “We’ll start with Mrs. Owens.”

****

Nora slid the empty glass toward the bartender and raised her finger to signal she would take another. He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Just get the damn drink, Barry.”

When your bartender knows you well enough to express his opinion on the necessity of the next drink it’s either time to quit or find a new bar. Before she could promise herself she would do one or the other the very next day, someone slid onto the stool next to her and said,”I’ll have what she’s having.”

“Of all the gin joints in all the world,” Nora said without looking over to the seat beside her.

“Pretty sure this was my place before it was yours.”

“Well, thank you for not taking it in the divorce. It’d be a hard one to let go,” Nora said, smiling at Barry as he finished pouring and sat the glasses in front of her and Shane, her ex-husband.

He didn’t think she noticed him cock an eyebrow at Barry who then signaled the number of drinks she had had - five - and the slow nod of his head as he reached for his glass and took a sip, but she did. “Heard Avalos slapped you with a cold case,” he said, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Glad my suffering is so amusing. You know how I feel about it.”

“What did ya catch?”

“Missing person from 1983. Little girl. Disappeared Halloween night. Nobody saw anything, nobody knows anything. It’s just a bunch of rumors and urban legends now,” she said.

Shane nodded his head. “Bill would love it,” he said.

He had been with the department longer than her and knew Bill pretty well even before they were married. In fact, it’s probably because of Bill they ever got together, ever fell in love, ever made a life so beautiful only the worst kind of tragedy could destroy it.

She felt her throat begin to close and her ears started ringing. Taking a long, slow drink of her whiskey, she blinked back tears. “Crazy bastard lived for this shit,” she said.

“To Bill,” Shane said.

“To Bill,” she said, tapping her glass against his.

“What else is going on?” Shane asked.

“Nothing.”

Shaking his head slowly, Shane gave a little laugh. “You never were one to give up information easily. I know something’s on your mind, five years of marriage taught me to recognize the signs,” he said.

“What signs?” she asked. “‘Cause nothing’s wrong.”

“For starters your cuticles are a mess, you can’t keep the fingers on your left hand still, and I asked what was going on, not what was wrong. Now spill.”

She sighed in resignation. “I got a strange call this morning and I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Yeah?”

“Just the usual nutjob,” she said.

“What did they want?” Shane’s brows furrowed with concern, creating a v-shaped wrinkle on the bridge of his nose.

“Nothing really. The thing is he asked for me by name, said something about finishing up with someone, then hung up. So there’s no reason for it to bug me. We get calls like this all the time.”

Shane nodded his head and took a drink. “I’m seeing someone,” he said.

All the breath was sucked from Nora’s lungs and hung in the room, slowing time, and muffling sound. Her ears rang, her mouth began to water, and her jaw got tight. She swallowed hard, trying to keep down everything that threatened to come up. She could feel Shane watching her, so she nodded her head.

“Her name’s Vicki,” Shane said quietly.

“Of course it is,” Nora said, attempting a smile.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, but when Nora signaled for the bartender Shane spoke up. “Let me give you a ride home, Nora.”

“I’m not ready to go home.” She spoke slowly, trying to control the slur she knew her words had become.

He waved off the bartender and stood up. “If you don’t want me to take you I’ll call your dad and he can come get you, but you’re done for tonight.”

“We aren’t married anymore, Shane. You don’t get to tell me when I’m done.” Damn it! She knew she sounded like every sad drunk at every bar in every town in the world right now. She had to get away from him. “Tell Vicki when to go home.”

“Don’t do this.” Shane took her hand. “Don’t let Olivia’s death ruin your life. She--”

“Don’t!” she said, springing off the barstool, jerking her hand away, and glaring at him. “My baby died, Shane! Don’t tell me what that is supposed to do to me.”

“Everything all right here?” Dukes was standing behind Luke with a concerned look.

Nora noticed Shane’s jaw clenching. “We’re fine, buddy.” He turned around and took a step toward Dukes.

Stumbling slightly, she rushed to get between them. She said, “You know Jeff Dukes, right? My new partner.”

“Right,” Shane said, but he did not step back nor break eye contact with Dukes, the muscles in his jaw working.

“And, uh, this is Shane,” she said. “Pyne. Shane Pyne. My husband. Ex-husband.”

Dukes held out his hand, an offering of peace, then pulled it back when Shane didn’t take it. Why was he being such a hardass, Nora wondered. His dark eyes glistened with anger and she could feel the heat coming off of him. It had been a long time since she had seen him get worked up so easily. She could feel her body responding to Shane and wanted to reach for him, but resisted. Instead, she chose to concede and go home, but it would be a cold day in hell before she let Shane take her.

Nora spun around and put her hand on Dukes’ arm. “Can you give me a ride home?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, throwing a smug look at Shane.

“Great,” Nora said before walking back to the bar to grab her keys.

Shane followed her.

“Let me take you, Nora,” he said. His face was a strange mix of concern and defiance.

“I already asked him. Besides, I’m not your problem anymore.” She put her keys in the pocket of her blazer and took the last swig of her drink.

As she walked past Sam he grabbed her by the elbow. “I don’t like this guy. Let me drive you,” he pleaded.

She angrily jerked her arm away and glared at him. His need to save her, to make everything better, was one of the things that ruined their marriage. She needed to feel, to rage, but he tried to fix it all, even when it couldn’t be fixed, when she couldn’t be fixed. “Seriously, Shane. Get over yourself.”

Fighting to walk steady in order to make the point that she could handle herself and didn’t need Shane’s help, Nora stamped her way to the door of McGuffin’s where Dukes was holding the door open for her, a strangely satisfied and unpleasant smile pasted on his face.