Page 99 of Lorenzo

I close the notebook.

That sounds useful for a woman impersonating her twin in a crowded club.

It also sounds useful to whoever recruited her.

We remain another half hour, going through the box and asking questions Elaine cannot or will not answer. By the time we leave, in addition to the post office box and the motel name, I have several old phone numbers and two former addresses.

None of it gives me Rachel.

But it brings her closer.

Outside, Lorenzo waits until we reach the car before speaking.

“She lied at the beginning.”

“Yes.”

“You expected that.”

I look at him over the top of the car. “In your particular line of business, Lorenzo, do people always tell you the truth?”

He knows I'm not talking about Conti Enterprises.

He considers me for a moment.

“No,” he says. “Sometimes they tell me what they think will keep them safe.”

“Exactly.”

I open the door and slide in. “Elaine was protecting herself, Rachel, or both. That does not mean she knew what was going to happen.”

“But she feared something.”

“Yes, and now we have enough to start finding out why.”

I look once more at Elaine Monroe’s house while Mocha greets me from the backseat.

She is standing behind the curtain, watching us leave.

Rachel learned how to watch people somewhere.

Maybe she learned it here.

Chapter Thirteen

Lorenzo

I am several miles away from Elaine Monroe’s house when Donna shifts in the passenger seat and brings the notebook photographs up on her phone again.

Mocha has settled across the back seat after greeting her with enough enthusiasm to leave hair all over the upholstery.

I haven't received an apology.

I do not think I'll be getting one.

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

“The motel.”