Page 28

I study the reports again. Every instinct tells me digital evidence doesn't simply disappear. Someone makes it disappear.

"But nobody can explain how," Molly says quietly.

"No."

She watches me think.

"I knew you'd hate this case."

"I don't hate cases."

"You hate mysteries."

"I hate incomplete information."

"Same difference."

Maybe. Maybe not.

I continue reading. The Valentine residence had been processed thoroughly. No blood. No signs of forced entry. No valuables missing. Dinner still sitting on the kitchen table. Half-finished glasses of iced tea. Coats hanging by the front door. People don't leave home like that.

Not voluntarily.

"What about Morrow?"

"He came home from a friend's house."

"And?"

"The house was empty."

"He called his parents?"

"Repeatedly."

"The police?"

"Immediately."

"That tracks."

She nods.

"He's been cooperative."

"Where is he now?"

Molly hesitates.

"That's another problem."

I look up.

"We lost him."

"What do you mean, 'lost him?'"

"He disappeared yesterday."