“You got that right.”
“I know.”
She walked to the edge of the deck, felt the sting of icy raindrops against her cheeks, and took a step back, under the overhang of the roof. “So, if it’s any consolation, I miss you, too.”
“I’ll expect you to demonstrate just how much when you get home.”
“In your dreams, Santana.”
“Morning and night.”
She felt a corner of her lip twitch upward. “Look, I’ll be home in a couple of days; I’m not waiting around for the body to be released and a funeral. I’ll come back later. Collette was like an event planner at one point in her life. She and Sarina and Paul’s sons can handle it, once we find Ivy.”
“She’s still missing?”
“So far, and if the San Francisco cops have any idea where she is, they’re not saying, at least not to me. My guess is she’s a person of interest.”
“They’re not letting you in on the investigation?”
“Just peripherally. I’ve got a bit of a personality clash with one of the investigators.”
“No!”
“Oh, shut up, Santana. It’s not my fault. Kind of a territorial thing. She’s like Alvarez on steroids and has the attitude to go with it. Doesn’t want me messing up her investigation, or whatever.”
She could almost see him smiling. “Don’t let her intimidate you.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Go get ’em, tiger.” He started to sign off, then said, “Oh, wait . . .” and then there was some muted conversation before he returned. “That was Jeremy. He says hi.”
“He could call.”
“Yeah . . . well . . .” She heard a door slam on the other end of the connection as the rain peppered down in San Francisco.
“Well what?”
“I think he’s got a new girlfriend.”
“Really?” As far as Pescoli knew, her son wasn’t dating anyone exclusively. “Is it serious?”
“Who can tell? He’s just twenty-one.”
“Too young,” she said, then remembered that by her son’s age she was already married and had a baby—him.
“He seems all about it.”
That was the problem. When Jeremy fell, he fell hard. “You met her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t know.”
Warning bells began to clang inside Pescoli’s head. Jeremy’s last steady girlfriend, Heidi Brewster, had been a piece of work. “Tell him I want to meet her . . . never mind, I’ll let him know myself. Look, I gotta go,” she said as she noticed Collette heading her way. “I’ll call ya later.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”