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“Frankie?” Wally looked at me in astonishment. “She’s never played a role-playing game in her life.”

“I know, right? But she totally kicked it.”

Frankie walked over and gave Wally a hug. “You guys played a good game. What did you think of Herman?”

“Herman?” Wally threw a baffled glance at me. “Who’s Herman?”

Frankie put her hands on her hips, looking at him like he was completely dense. “My dragon, Herman.”

“Your dragon has a name?” Wally asked.

“Of course Herman has a name. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Ah, I don’t know. We were building a potion to destroy him, but we didn’t finish in time,” Wally admitted.

Frankie’s mouth opened in outrage. “What?Poison Herman? Howcouldyou?”

Wally held up his hands as if protecting himself. “Fake dragon, fake potion.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wally Harris, don’t youevercall any of my creations fake again.” Turning on her heel, she stormed off.

I burst out laughing at his stunned expression. “I think we’ve created a gaming monster.”

He puffed up his chest with pride, grinning. “Dang, Angel, I think you’re right.”

Chapter Thirty-One

ANGEL SINCLAIR

Saturday morning, we were dropped off in town, and everyone went their separate ways. I told Frankie and Wally I needed to talk to my mom and I’d meet them later at the bookstore café. They went off to do some shopping, and I returned to the same park bench in the town square I had sat on before when I’d talked to my mom. Except this time, I didn’t call my mom.

I pulled up the number I’d found and took a deep breath. The phone rang four times before anyone picked up.

“Hello?” a female voice said.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Maria Lando?”

There was silence for a long time and then a soft chuckle. “Oh my. I haven’t been called that for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Angel Sinclair. I think my dad and your husband were friends or coworkers a long time ago.”

“Sinclair? Ethan Sinclair?”

“Yes. That’s my dad.”

“He had two daughters, right?”

“Yes, I’m the youngest. Gwen is my older sister. He…left us when I was just eighteen months old.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he had passed away.”

“He didn’t. I mean, I don’t think so. He disappeared, and I’m trying to find out why. Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions about my dad?”

“Of course.”

“Your husband worked at King’s Security like my dad, right?”

“Right. J. P. and Ethan were friends as well as coworkers.”