Julian glanced over his shoulder. “Lana, you know how I said she was acting cagey, before we broke up?”
“Yeah?”
“I thought for a moment she was seeing some guy. Older—much older.”
“Why did you think that?”
“So this one day, I come home early and she’s on the phone. She’s talking to this dude on speakerphone, freaking outthat someone’s photographed them together. I heard his voice, super-quick, before she clocked me and took it off speaker and went out into the hall. She was upset, saying sorry, saying she always ruins things. After she hung up, I asked what it was about, and she blew up at me.” He shrugged. “Nothing else came of it, so I let it go. We were pretty much over at that point—I just didn’t want to be the one to call it, because she wasn’t in a good place. I guess she could have gone to him, when she left.”
Lana shook her head. “She moved in with some stoners, but they haven’t seen her for a month—we went there this morning.”
“Why is everyone so interested in Vivien?”
“What do you mean, ‘everyone’?”
“Private investigators. Said they’d been hired by Vivien’s family, which I guessed meant you.”
“Not me. What did they look like?”
“Two white guys. Buzzcuts, built, military looking. Just after I last saw you.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. They wanted to know where she was, and I couldn’t help. And then there was that detective.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, pregnant lady? She wanted to know what Vivien had been looking into, or if I had anything related to it, but I had no clue, so…”
Lana and Griffin shared a look. So the detectivehadlooked into Vivien’s claims, whatever they were.
“Did any of them share theories?” Griffin said.
“Nah. They all said it was some privacy thing.” The assistant called Julian’s name. “I gotta get back. Look, I still feel bad about walking away from her. But she gave me an out and…”
“I know,” Lana said. “It was more than you signed up for.”
“I guess.” He turned, then swiveled back. “Did you find her laptop at her new place?”
“No. I guess she took it with her.”
“How about the binder?”
“Binder? What binder?”
“Red, with an elastic strap holding it together. It was stuffed full—documents, newspaper articles. She kept it hidden, but I saw it occasionally. I’m guessing it was part of the ‘evidence’ she found for this theory of hers. If you can find that binder…”
“It definitely wasn’t at her house.”
His name was called again. He looked at Lana apologetically.
“Go,” she said. “And thanks.”
“I really hope she’s okay. She’s got a good heart.”
As he jogged away, Lana turned to Griffin. “Weird that the detective didn’t mention she’d spoken to him. But then, she was distracted by her uterus.”
“And those private investigators—has to be the goons.”
