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“Please? It could be important. How good are your records? Do you keep a record of all the people you sell homes to?”
“I keep excellent records, thank you very much. We do periodic mail outs, send out Christmas cards, and—”
“Are you where you can look up somebody? Likenow?”
“Actually, I’m at the office. What’s the name?”
“Smithson. Marjorie.”
He was still parked at the curb in front of Dorothy Draper’s house. He’d thanked her profusely for her time, the coffee, and the information, then had run to his car and called Glenda.
Now he was impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “How’s it coming?”
“Just a sec. This computer is being as slow as bloody Christmas.”
“Did you take Elle back to the house?”
“No. She didn’t want to go back. Oh, here it is! Marjorie Smithson. I sold her a house in 2021. Why’s she important?”
“What do you remember about her?”
“I’ve sold a thousand houses since then, but if I’m remembering right, she was buying it alone. I mean, without a husband or partner.”
“Widowed?”
“I think so. She was living on a pension and Social Security. That raised red flags with the mortgage company, but I got creative on the financing, and she was approved. She wanted a quick close because she was relocating from somewhere out of state.”
“Iowa. Anything else? What did she look like?”
“Brownish hair. Plump. But I couldn’t describe her features if my life depended on it. It was during Covid. We were all wearing masks.”
“All?Who else was there?”
“Me, her, and her daughter.”
“Daughter? How old was she?”
“Christ, Calder, I don’t know. She had on a mask.”
“Ballpark.”
“Twenty-something. Collegiate or marriageable age. I remember her being taller than average.”
Calder’s breath caught; then he began to hyperventilate. Smithson had had an adult daughter. “Do you have her name? What was the daughter’s name?”
“Hold on. I’m scrolling. They’re on our mailing list for birthday cards. Here it is.” She paused. “Huh.”
“What?”
“The daughter’s name was Dawn. Isn’t that—”
Calder’s breath came out in a whoosh. “Oh my God.” Then, “Oh myGod! Put Elle on.”
“She’s not here. Calder, what is going—”
“What do you mean Elle’s not there? She’s not with you?”
“No. She—”
