“It matters,” Spencer said.

“You don’t have to answer these questions, Mark,” Pollard said. “The cops are fishing. And they’re trying to trip you up on details. They are building a case against you.”

More tears streamed down his face. “Skylar is such a good kid. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“No, sir, she doesn’t,” Vaughan said.

Pollard laid his hand on Foster’s shoulder. “You need to take a break.”

“Your wife and daughter don’t have time,” Vaughan said.

“Detective Vaughan, would you step outside with me?” Spencer said. Spencer’s frustration bubbled under her blank expression.

“Sure.”

He followed her out of the house, and when the two were outside, she crossed to the Fosters’ fence and opened it. She walked directly to the trash can and raised the lid. It was half-full.

“Doesn’t look like it was trash day either,” she said.

“No, it does not.”

“Foster is lying,” she said.

“Divorces and children are expensive.”

“With them both gone, it would clear the decks for a new life.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But we also have a potentially troubled kid who wasn’t afraid to push the boundaries and could have brought all this upon her family.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tuesday, August 13, 10:00 p.m.

Alexandria, Virginia

Fifteen Hours after the 911 Call

It was as if Zoe had opened the puzzle box and dumped all the pieces onto a table. She had all she needed to create the picture featured on the box cover, but she had no idea how to connect them yet. “Have you tracked down any of her friends?”

Vaughan checked his notebook and nodded. “The place to go next is the gym. Apparently, Hadley spent most of her waking hours there.”

“Agreed.”

The trail of bread crumbs they were following was scattered at best. But it was all they had for now. “Right.”

They drove to the gym located on King Street, parked in a lot behind the building, and pushed through the glass front doors and walked up to the front desk. A young woman wore a T-shirt that read KING STREET GYM. She had blond hair pulled into a perky ponytail and wore almost no makeup on flawless skin.

She looked up at both of them, smiling until she saw Vaughan’s badge. “Is this about Hadley? We all just saw the news.”

“Yes,” Vaughan said. “She worked out here but was also an employee. I would assume she would have some acquaintances.”

“She and Sharon hung out a lot. Sharon’s the fitness director and has her office in the back. I’ll show you.”

“Did you know Hadley well?” Zoe glanced at her name tag. “Misty.”

“I’ve only been here a few weeks. But she was always nice to me. I hope when I get to be her age, I’m in as good a shape.”

When Zoe had been this kid’s age, she’d still been dancing. In those days, she had felt invincible. Her body had responded when she had demanded it, and the aches and pains had been minor annoyances. She had been told she had tremendous potential, and she had begun to look at the more established dancers with a similar kind of awe. Never once had she pictured herself as anything other than a dancer.

They found Sharon sitting behind her desk when Misty knocked on the door. Sharon, like Misty and Hadley, was fit, her arms and legs finely toned. Zoe and Vaughan introduced themselves, and when Misty left, they sat in a pair of wire chairs next to a set of scales.

“I still can’t believe Hadley is missing,” Sharon said. “Who would do that to her?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Zoe said. “What can you tell us about Hadley?”

“She was a hard worker. If she wasn’t training or teaching, she was working out. She never sat still. I asked her once if she ever relaxed, and she laughed and said she couldn’t. I wonder if she knew something like this might happen.”

“Did you know about her affair with Roger Dawson?” Zoe asked.

“Yes. It was hard to miss. Those two could barely keep their hands off of each other.”

“Dawson said Hadley wanted to divorce her husband,” Vaughan said.

Sharon shifted in her seat. “It sounds cheap when I hear you talk about it. But I think she loved Roger.”

“She was going to leave Mark?” Zoe asked.

“Yes. She was only hesitating because of Skylar.”

“Why?” Vaughan asked.

“Sky has been a handful the last ten or eleven months. Hadley caught her sneaking out, and she had grown very secretive. Hadley was getting frustrated with her. Last week, she said life would be easier if she’d never become a mom.”

“Did she have a desk or a locker?” he asked.

“She did. I can show you.” She rose, almost relieved to be getting out of the room. They walked past several doorways before Sharon pulled out a key and unlocked a door. She pushed it open and flipped on the lights.

The office was barely big enough to hold a small desk and two chairs. The desk was clean, except for a picture of Hadley and Skylar and an award. The picture had been taken at the beach and appeared to be as recent as this past summer. Both Hadley and Skylar had broad grins that lit up their faces.

“That was taken on the Eastern Shore,” Sharon said. “She and Skylar went away for the weekend.”

“Mark didn’t go?” Zoe asked.

“She said he had to work.” Sharon folded her arms. “Hadley wanted to be close to Skylar. That’s why she entered them in the spring DC metro area fitness dance competition. They were both great and won first place. It was even in the papers.”

“What was Hadley’s relationship like with Mark?” Vaughan asked.

Sharon hesitated. “You know about his affair, right?”

“Yes,” Zoe said.

“I can tell you that it really irked Hadley that Mark and Veronica still saw each other every day at work. I think that’s what finally drove Hadley to Roger.”

Zoe sat at the desk and opened the center drawer and found basic supplies: pens, pencils, paper clips, and rubber bands. She reached inside the drawer and patted her hand along the back edge but felt nothing. The next drawer contained Hadley’s calendar with workout schedules. A pat down of this drawer also revealed nothing. The third and final drawer was deeper than the first two and contained fitness manuals.

She thumbed through each book and found only random notes that Hadley had made in neat handwriting along the edges that referenced questions about the book’s content.

When she searched the back of the third drawer, her fingers skimmed over the edge of something. She removed a worn envelope and its contents.

The much-older picture featured a family of four, including Dad, Mom, and their two smiling blond daughters. There was no mistaking the girls. They were Hadley and Marsha.

All the Princes were smartly dressed and looked happy. This picture appeared to have been taken shortly before Marsha had vanished. She flipped it over, and written on the back were the words I remember. Do you?

“Remember what?” Vaughan asked.

“Good question. The photo is weathered and bears the photographer’s embossed logo,” Zoe said.