"Maybe," Noah said.
"Sutherland, you are infuriating. The writing is on the wall."
"I just think there are a lot of unknowns here. Missing dots."
"There always are." McKenzie crossed his arms. "So we pull Finch back in. We apply pressure this time and get him talking now that we have some evidence on the guy."
Noah nodded and stood. "I'm going to see Fiona Spence's father again. See what he knows about this tattoo and if he noticed anything leading up to her disappearance."
McKenzie tossed his arms up. "You're wasting your time."
The garage wasopen and Mark Spence was loading equipment into the bed of his truck when Noah pulled up. Buckets, spray bottles, a portable shop vac, a roll of chamois cloths. The front door to the house stood open and country music drifted out from somewhere inside, tinny and distant.
"Mr. Spence. A moment of your time."
"No time today. Catch me later." Mark didn't stop moving, hoisting a five-gallon jug of cleaning solution into the truck bed.
"Where are you heading?"
"Some clients bring their vehicles here. Others, we go out to." He brushed past Noah and walked back toward the garage.
"Where is Fiona's mother?"
Mark stopped. He turned around slowly. "Your guess is as good as mine. She bailed on Fiona years ago. Went off with some other guy. Never stayed in contact." He resumed walking, grabbing a caddy of supplies from a shelf inside the garage.
"Do you even care where your daughter is?"
"If I cared about every time she goes off the grid, I wouldn't have a hair left on my head." He carried the caddy to the truck. "What's that saying? Pick your battles. I pick mine."
"Did you two have a fight the night she went missing?"
"I keep telling you she isn't missing."
"We found her vehicle."
"And?"
Noah decided to cut to the point. "Do you know your daughter was modeling erotic photos? Spending time with men on a farm not far from here?"
Mark set the caddy down in the truck bed and went still for the first time since Noah had arrived. He didn't turn around.
"Did she mention going to see Garrett Finch the night she vanished?"
"Nope." He resumed loading.
"Nothing about modeling?"
"I told you no. Now I need to get going."
"You're not going anywhere. Not until we talk."
“Are you detaining me?"
"For now."
Mark stopped. He leaned against the side of his truck and lit a cigarette. The smoke drifted across the driveway in the morning air.
Noah handed him the photographs. Mark took them and looked through them one by one. His eyes widened ever so slightly but his expression stayed controlled. He handed them back.
