Glen shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

He bent down and inserted the key into the lock of the front door to Shelby’s condo. The key turned.

Glen reached for the doorknob and turned it. The door opened inward. ‘Shelby,’ he called out. There was no answer.

Talia frowned. ‘I’m going to get a ticket. That place I parked was a loading zone.’

‘It’s Sunday,’ said Glen, looking around as he entered the apartment. ‘There’s nobody loading anything on Sunday.’

Talia followed him down the hall to the large, comfortable living room with its panoramic view. Glen went directly into the kitchen and began looking for some note or indication of where Shelby might have gone.

‘Maybe she just went somewhere. She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t have to tell you where she’s going,’ said Talia. Talia’s gaze was drawn to the bank of windows, but she frowned at the gray river, the bridge, the buildings, and the treetops, as if she found the sight of them offensive.

Glen was rummaging through note pads and takeout menus which were piled on the counter. ‘Look, she doesn’t answer her phone, or her cell. She doesn’t answer the door. And her car is in the garage.’ Glen had insisted that Talia drive him over to Shelby’s when he returned from his fruitless visit to Faith. ‘And what about these?’ Glen held up a key chain and jingled the keys. He had found them on the floor of the garage, under the driver’s side door of Shelby’s Honda. He tried them on her car, and unlocked the door instantly. ‘These are her car keys and her house keys. You think she just left them there and walked away?’

‘She dropped them. Or they fell out of her purse,’ said Talia irritably.

Glen shook his head. ‘No. There’s something going on.’

‘I don’t know why you think that,’ said Talia.

Glen had given up on the kitchen and moved to Shelby’s glass top desk in the living room. He sat down on the steel and leather desk chair and began to search through her papers. He stopped long enough to look up at Talia.

‘Are you serious?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Is it possible that you really don’t know?’

Talia returned his exasperated stare dispassionately.

‘You know, Talia, if you had interceded, and insisted, Faith would have had to tell me the name of that doctor. We could have settled this all by now.’

‘It’s none of your business, Glen. People’s doctors are a private matter. I wasn’t going to force my assistant to tell me that.’

‘Can’t you try to remember?’ Glen asked.

‘I did try,’ Talia complained.

‘Try harder.’

‘This is a wild goose chase. I have to get back to Mother,’ Talia insisted.

‘No, you don’t,’ Glen snapped. ‘Estelle is fine. She doesn’t know if you’re there or not. She doesn’t need your help. Your sister needs your help. Now sit down. If you can’t do anything constructive, then just sit there quietly.’

With a sigh, Talia sank down on to the nearest chair, turning her own car keys impatiently in her hands. ‘What are you looking for?’ Talia demanded of her brother.

‘I don’t know. Something to tell me where she went.’

Glen sat in front of Shelby’s computer, his fingers poised over the keys. He typed in a few combinations. ‘I wonder what she would use for a password,’ he mused aloud.

‘People use their birthdays,’ Talia said, sounding bored.

‘I tried that,’ said Glen.

‘You know her birthday?’ Talia asked.

‘I know yours, too,’ said Glen. ‘Now be quiet. Let me think.’

Suddenly, they heard a knock at the front door of the apartment. ‘Shelby?’ a voice called out.

Glen and Talia exchanged a surprised glance. Glen got up from the desk, went to the door and opened it.

A pretty woman with shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair and gray eyes was standing there. She frowned at the sight of Glen’s wild hair and layers of shirts. ‘Who are you?’ she said to Glen. ‘Where’s Shelby?’

‘I’m Shelby’s brother. Who are you?’ Glen demanded.

‘I’m Jen. I live down the hall. I heard voices in here. I’ve been waiting for her to come home. We were talking about having lunch after she got back from Markson’s. When I heard the voices, I thought it was her.’

‘What was she doing at Markson’s?’ Glen asked.

‘She works there,’ said Talia.

Glen turned away from the door and looked at Talia. ‘She hasn’t been to work in weeks,’ said Glen impatiently. ‘Don’t you pay any attention at all?’

Talia sniffed.

Glen looked back at Jen. ‘Did she tell you why she was headed to Markson’s?’

Jen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. She didn’t say. She was planning some scheme. I think it had something to do with what happened to Chloe. She said she’d tell me all about it if it worked.’

Glen turned back to Talia who was listening to their exchange. ‘I told you,’ he said. ‘There’s something wrong.’

Jen frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Come in, come in,’ said Glen, heading back down the hall. Jen followed him cautiously. ‘This is my other sister, Talia. I made her bring me over here when we couldn’t reach Shelby. I found Shelby’s car in the parking garage, and these were on the ground not far from the car.’ He jingled the keys.

Jen reared back. ‘Her car is here? And her keys were on the ground? That’s not right.’

‘Thank you. My point, exactly,’ said Glen, giving Talia a meaningful look.

‘So what do you think happened to her?’ Jen asked anxiously.

Glen peered at Shelby’s neighbor. ‘Shelby told Talia that she had her suspicions about some doctor. Did she mention a doctor to you? Someone who might have had some involvement with Chloe?’

Along with the thousand fabrics, tiles, and paint colors that she kept in her head, Jen was the sort of friend who kept the details of all her friends’ lives in her head as well. ‘Chloe worked for a doctor. An ob-gyn named Cliburn.’

Glen turned to Talia. ‘Does that ring a bell? Dr Cliburn?’

‘No. Besides, she just said he was an ob-gyn,’ said Talia scornfully. ‘Why would an ob-gyn be treating Faith’s parents? They’re old people.’

‘True,’ said Glen. ‘What was wrong with those people anyway? Faith said that her mother had a stroke. Now, the father . . .’

Suddenly, Talia’s eyes seemed to light up. ‘Lou Gehrig’s disease. ALS. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Ultimately, the neuromuscular system in the body completely fails . . .’

‘Good work, Talia. So the doctor for that would be a . . .’ Glen fumbled for an answer. He avoided things medical. He planned to live forever, like Peter Pan.

‘A neurologist,’ said Jen firmly. ‘My uncle had a stroke. He saw a neurologist.’

‘All right,’ said Glen. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere. We can get a list of all the local neurologists. There can’t be that many. It’s a specialty.’

‘Don’t bother,’ said Talia.

‘Why not?’ Jen asked.

‘Janssen,’ said Talia bluntly. ‘I remember now. His name was Janssen.’