“Remind me to thank them later,” Andi murmured as the doors slid shut.
“Absolutely. Hazard pay might be appropriate.”
The two of them made general chitchat on the drive to meet Pam at a local diner.
When they arrived, the Real Pam was already seated.
Duke immediately clocked the differences between this Pam and the Fake Pam they’d initially met.
This woman was thinner and blonder with a more refined profile and style of clothing than Fake Pam. Every movement seemed somehow heavier—as if her limbs carried invisible weight. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her shoulders slumped beneath her light-weight coat she hadn’t bothered to shrug off.
She stood, and they did quick introductions before sitting and ordering breakfast.
When the waitress left, they started.
“This just isn’t like Gina.” Pam’s voice cracked with every other word. “None of it.”
They’d chosen a small café a few blocks from the hotel—nothing fancy, just scratched wood tables, the hiss of steaming milk, and the comforting smell of coffee strong enough to cut through exhaustion. Duke welcomed the normalcy. He’d ordered eggs and bacon, something solid, something that anchored him in the present. Andi had gone with coffee only, her focus already elsewhere.
Pam sat across from them, hands wrapped around a paper cup she hadn’t touched.
Andi angled her chair slightly toward Duke, close enough to feel supportive without crowding him. “The police mentioned that Gina ran away on her own before. Is that true?”
Pam nodded reluctantly. “Yes. But just once—about a year ago. She disappeared for a couple of weeks when she was feeling overwhelmed.”
That tracked. Duke cut into his eggs, listening more than eating, mentally lining the detail up with what he already knew. A one-time flight response wasn’t the same as a pattern.
“Has she been feeling overwhelmed lately?” Andi asked.
Pam shook her head. “No. I mean, the breakup with Colin was hard, but she knew it was the right thing. She and Colin just weren’t good together.” She hesitated.
“But you don’t believe she ran away this time.” Duke kept his tone level as he set his fork down.
“Absolutely not.” Pam shook her head with conviction. “Especially after the break-in. That guy told her he was coming back. I can’t believe the police aren’t taking this more seriously.”
Duke agreed. The warning alone should’ve pushed this out of themissing adultcategory and straight intoactive threat. He kept that to himself—for now.
“Do you think the person who did this is just some random sicko?” Pam’s gaze darted between him and Andi, fear sharp and unguarded.
Duke met Andi’s eyes for a beat. They didn’t need words.
“It’s really hard to say,” Andi said, each word carefully chosen. “It’s a possibility. And if that’s the case, it could make finding her more difficult.”
Pam closed her eyes and nodded once. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“We’re planning to stop by her law office next.” Andi kept her voice steady, professional. Overhead, soft instrumental music drifted through the café, the contrast almost jarring. “We want to talk to her coworkers. See if there’s anything that stands out.”
Pam’s eyes flicked up. “Do you think they’ll tell you anything? I left a message for her boss, but she never called me back.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Andi said.
Duke reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. “There’s something we need to show you.”
Pam stiffened as he turned the screen toward her—the grainy still pulled from the hotel’s security footage.
“This woman approached us,” Duke said. “Claimed to be you.”
Pam stared at the image, her mouth tightening as she leaned closer. Duke watched her carefully—micro-expressions, hesitation, recognition. Or the lack of it.
