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guess she wanted to impress them.”
    â€œThis must be hard on your daughter.”
    Wilcox nodded. “She feels terribly guilty.”
    â€œCan I speak to her?”
    Wilcox made a vague gesture with his hand. “I’m not sure what her plans are. Exactly. Outside of the fact that she’s going back to New York City soon.”
    â€œPerhaps I can speak to her before she does.”
    â€œBe my guest.” Wilcox wrote down a number on a piece of yellow paper, tore it off the pad, and gave it to me. “She’s staying at a friend’s. But I just got off the phone with her. Stephanie hasn’t heard from her mother either.”
    â€œPerhaps she can tell me something that would help.”
    Wilcox looked doubtful.
    I pressed on. “Does your wife have any siblings?”
    â€œNo. She’s an only child.”
    â€œParents?”
    â€œBoth died a few years ago.”
    â€œCousins?”
    â€œI’ll give you their names, but all they do is exchange Christmas cards.” Wilcox leaned forward slightly. “Aren’t you going to take notes?”
    â€œWhen I need to, I will,” I assured him. So far I hadn’t learned anything worth writing down. “Do you have any idea where your wife would have gone?”
    â€œNone. She’s a homebody.”
    â€œWould her friends know?”
    â€œShe really doesn’t have any.”
    I let that one go.
    â€œDid she have a favorite place?”
    â€œShe likes the rose garden in Thornden Park in the summer. Did you know it’s one of the ten best in the country?”
    â€œNo. I didn’t. Was there someplace special you two went when you vacationed?”
    â€œWe haven’t taken a vacation in years.”
    â€œSomeplace she fantasized about going?”
    Wilcox looked blank. I guess fantasy didn’t count for much in their lives.
    â€œLike Paris? Rome? San Francisco?”
    â€œI don’t think so. She didn’t like to travel.”
    I didn’t point out that she was traveling now.
    â€œDid she take your name when she married you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat was her maiden name?”
    â€œLyons.”
    I wrote that down.
    â€œWhy is that important?”
    â€œYour wife might decide to start using it again.”
    The phone rang.
    â€œShe’ll get it,” Wilcox said, indicating his secretary.
    It rang twice more before Martha picked it up.
    â€œI’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” he said.
    â€œDo you have a picture of her I can have?”
    â€œAt home. But it’s two years old.”
    â€œThat shouldn’t be a problem. I’d like you to do something else for me as well. I’d like you to sit down and give me a list of people she knows, the name of her doctor and the psychologist she’s going to, as well as the name of her college and high school. I need the license plate number of the car she took. Her Social Security number. Her credit card bills, old phone bills, her favorite restaurants, places she likes to go to, places she’s always wanted to visit. In short, the more stuff you can tell me about her, the better my chances are of finding her.”
    â€œI’ll have everything by tomorrow morning,” Wilcox promised, looking up from the list he’d written down.
    I stood.
    â€œSo you’ll find her?” he said.
    â€œI’ll certainly try.”
    The limo was gone when I walked out the door. I decided someone in the real estate firm upstairs must have been closing a big deal.

Chapter Six
    A s I got into my car, I wondered if Janet Wilcox really was crazy or if her husband just thought she was. Women, you ask them why they left their husbands and they’ll give you five hours’ worth of reasons, easy. Most can go on for days detailing the causes. You ask guys why their wife left them, and they’ll look at you and shrug their shoulders and say, “I don’t know. She just went