“These look like song lyrics,” he says, flipping through it, then his eyes meet mine. “Kelce?”
“Could be the boyfriend,” I mutter, then add, “Let’s keep looking and see if we find anything else.”
Unfortunately, those two pieces of information are the only ones we come across as we go through Anna’s things. After we finish getting everything put back in the unit, we head to the college, where we meet with the dean and get a list of both Anna and Grace’s teachers, along with their email addresses, so we can set up meetings directly with them.
When we get back to Nashville, it’s almost four, so we go to the bar the girls were last seen at. Only one of the bartenders that recognized them is working, so we ask if she knows if any of the bands that play at their location have a member named Kelce. She doesn’t but, tells us the manager would since she does all the bookings for the bar.
As we’re leaving, I notice a band setting up, so I stop to speak with them. As soon as I show them the girls’ pictures, they all recognize them from the news coverage. Unfortunately, none of them ever had any contact with them. On a whim, I ask if they know anyone by the name of Kelce, and the lead singer swears, he knows a singer by that name who plays in some of the bars on the strip from time to time. Never with a band, always alone with just a guitar.
Finally having a fucking lead, we walk the strip, down one side and up the other, and talk to management at each location or ask to be contacted so we can get a list of people who play in their establishments. It takes fucking forever, but when I drop Martinez off at his car, I know he’s feeling as relieved as I am that we finally have something to go on.
As I pull out of the parking lot, I dial Emma’s number and listen to it ring.
“Hi, Daddy,” Win answers, and I smile.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Miss Karen just left, so me and Emma are going to make dinner.”
“Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yep.” That single word pops, and I know it’s all I’m going to get out of her about it.
“Can I talk to Emma?”
She doesn’t answer, but the phone goes quiet.
“Hey,” Emma says softly. “I thought you would already be here.”
“Sorry, baby, we finally got a real lead on that case, so we were following up on it.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Very,” I reply. “How was the apartment?”
“Not great.” She sighs, sounding disappointed while I feel relieved. “It’s a lot farther from the salon than I’d like to have to drive every morning.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. April has another one for me to look at tomorrow.”
“Great,” I lie.
“Yeah, hopefully I’ll like it more than the last, because right now, Miranda’s place looks like a bomb went off in it.”
“You’ll find something,” I mutter, then ask, “Do you need me to pick anything up before I get home?”
“No, I stopped at the store and got the stuff to make stuffed manicotti for dinner, and I picked up a few things we were running low on.”
“We’re going to have a talk about you paying for groceries, Em.”
“Oh no! The water is boiling! I have to go. I’ll see you when you get here.” She hangs up, and I grit my teeth at her dramatics.
I spend half the drive home trying to figure out how I can give her money without her throwing that shit back in my face. And the other half, I try to think of a way to convince her that she should wait on signing a lease for an apartment. I wouldn’t tell her to move in officially with Win and me now. She could wait until Miranda’s lease is up in a few months, to see where we are and if she’s comfortable taking that step. I know Win would be happy. She loves having her around, and I feel the same. But knowing she’s about ten steps behind me, I’m not sure how that conversation would go over.
When I walk through the door twenty minutes later, the smell of basil, tomatoes, and garlic greets me, along with the Kids Bop song Win is obsessed with this week.
“Hi, Dad!” Win calls over the music. I look at the island, where she and Emma are standing side by side with a glass dish between them, along with a bowl.