Kirsten's light-flooded apartment was on the ground floor of a three-family house. She received Nikki with arms wide open when the detective closed the apartment door behind her. "Hello, Veronica. Give me a big hug, please."

Nikki bent down to her sister-in-law and gave her a long hug. When she pulled away from Kirsten, her sister-in-law looked at her with a mischievous grin. "Did you catch all the bad guys you were after?"

Nikki shrugged and smiled, although she immediately saw the blood-smeared Upton before her. "Of course. You know that no criminal stands a chance against us."

"Then you must be hungry. Come on, dinner is ready."

As always, when Kirsten invited the detective over, the round table in the living and dining area was perfectly set. Even the silver napkin rings were there. She placed great value on these things, a counterbalance for the perfection that was missing from her body.

When Kirsten took the casserole dish out of the oven and placed it on the wooden board on her thigh, an irresistible aroma drew to Nikki's nose and made her realize how hungry she was.

The scalloped pork medallions tasted so good that Nikki couldn't stop eating until nothing was left. With a sigh, she leaned back and put her hand on her stomach. "That was fantastic. If I ate with you daily, I'd be as round as an apple in no time."

Kirsten smiled embarrassedly. "I don't think so." And with a more serious expression on her face, she added. "Besides, I wouldn't mind you being here every day. Then I wouldn't have to sit here alone."

Nikki put her hand on Kirsten's. "Aaron? Do you still miss him?"

Kirsten shrugged. "I can't help it."

"Yes, I know." On impulse, Nikki looked into the other woman's brown eyes. 'Is everything else okay?'

"Yes... fine." The delay in answering and the shadow that fell over Kirsten's pretty face made Nikki doubt that she was telling the truth.

"Are you sure?" There was another brief pause.

"Yes, I'm sure. I miss Aaron."

"All right," the detective reluctantly agreed, even though she wasn't. But maybe she was wrong and reading too much into Kirsten's expression. She opened her mouth to ask a question when her cell phone started to ring. The call was either from the BPD or Mike's cell phone.

It was Mike.

Nikki sensed that her pulse was quickening. Now, it might turn out whether they were dealing with a murder case or not. "And? Was the blood identified?"

"Yes, it was," Mike confirmed in a tone that made Nikki suspect she might be in for a surprise. "The blood belongs to a woman. An actress named Miriam Labo."

It wasn't the first time Nikki had heard that name, but she couldn't place it.

"Does the name mean anything to you?" Mike asked when his wife remained expectantly silent.

"I think so, but I don't know what context I know the name from."

"I can tell you that. Miriam Labo disappeared without a trace about two and a half years ago and is generally believed to be dead."

xxx

I can't forget it.

I seek distraction, do everything possible to divert my thoughts into other channels, throw myself into my work, and yet... This indescribable moment is present with every step I take and in my thoughts.

What have I come across with your help? Is it the gate to hell or heaven's door? Will the desire for this moment burn in me for the rest of my life because it was so unique and cannot be reproduced? Or will I be able to repeat what I had with you and stagger from one state of complete ecstasy to the next in the future? Just thinking about it...

I know there is only one way to find out. And I know I have to try if I don't want my life to become dreary, now that I've learned that there is something so precious. I must not hesitate to overcome my conscience, that whispering voice that tells me it is a fraud against you. Yes, I loved you like I've never loved another person before, and I still do. Only through you did I realize that I had never really loved before. Everything I thought was a tiny flicker, a tea light against the firestorm you triggered in me. But was it ultimately this undying love that made what we had with each other possible? This earthquake of pleasure?

You will understand that I can not live in this uncertainty and must try to find out.

You want me to be happy, don't you?

Because you're with me forever.

xxx

When Nikki entered the kitchen the following day, Mike sat at the kitchen island. "We're going to have another talk with Upton," he began before Nikki could pour herself a cup of coffee. "I'm curious to see if he knows Miriam Labo."

Nikki went to the coffee machine and poured herself a cup. "It's a crazy story. What happened to her back then? I can't remember."

Mike took a deep breath and took a sip from his cup. "Her agent contacted the Missing Persons Department and filed a report because she suddenly disappeared. You know how it is when a grown person disappears. You never know if it's just someone tired of their current life and has decided to disappear. However, you wonder why someone successful, famous, and wealthy would disappear and leave all their belongings behind. Including the bank account." He paused and popped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "Of course, all sorts of speculation were made in the press about what might have happened to her. Anyway, she didn't show up again, and it was assumed that she had either had an accident somewhere where she couldn't be found or that she had fallen victim to a violent crime. Well, now we suddenly have blood of hers. A hell of a lot of it."

While Nikki listened to her husband's explanation, she did a picture search on her smartphone and found what she was looking for. "I think whether Upton and Labo knew each other is moot." She pushed her cell phone over to him. The picture showed Upton smiling at a very attractive woman whose face looked familiar to Nikki and who, from the description, was Miriam Labo. Both were wearing evening wear and held champagne glasses in their hands. "The picture was taken at a charity event about three years ago. It looks like the two of them are having a lively conversation."

Mike raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the phone and rose energetically. "Let's go. Let's pay a visit to Mr. Upton."

xxx

When the journalist opened the mansion door for them, he was obviously not surprised to see the detectives.

"Good morning," Nikki began. "We have a few more questions for you."

Upton nodded. "Please, come in." Although he looked like a different person in clean clothes, he looked tired and down, just as if he hadn't slept much the night before. When he closed the front door behind them, his wife came down the wide staircase and looked at them seriously. She was wearing a tight-fitting, dark gray suit that made her look even slimmer than the day before. This morning, her blonde hair fell loosely over her shoulders, making her look younger and more feminine. Nevertheless, she was surrounded by an aura of aloofness. "Good morning. It's still very early. You don't seem to regard other people's privacy much."

Nikki raised her arm, looked at her smartwatch, and shook her head from side to side. 'It's almost nine in the morning. I think that's a reasonable time of day for a few questions.' By now, Christine Boutroux had arrived downstairs and stopped before them. "Does the name Miriam Labo mean anything to you?"

Nikki was sure that Upton knew the actress when she asked the question. There were only nuances to the change in his facial expression, then his face froze.

"Miriam Labo?" the journalist repeated. "Yes, she was an actress. She disappeared over two years ago."

"Was?" Mike followed up with a frown.

"Yes, she... as far as I know, everyone assumes that she's dead."

Upton was clearly highly uncomfortable. His hands were in his pockets, but Nikki could see his fingers moving through the fabric. He also had trouble making and holding eye contact with either of them. "Did you know her personally?" She watched Upton's face closely.

"Personally? No, why?"

"Are you sure?"

Upton's gaze flicked to his wife, who looked at him unmovingly and back to Nicki. "Yes, I am sure."

Nikki reached into her pocket and pulled out her smartphone, holding the picture on the display for Upton so that his wife could see it, too. "This picture is three years old. It was taken before a charity event. Do you agree that you and Ms. Labo are having a good time together?"

"Yes, that may be, but that doesn't mean we knew each other personally. At such events, you talk to all kinds of people. Small talk. I don't even remember this encounter."

"How about you?" Mike turned to Christine Boutroux, who only then tore her gaze away from the display.

"For me, events like this have no appeal, I'm sorry. It's all about seeing and being seen, not about culture, let alone art. I don't feel comfortable in these circles. So my answer is: No, I don't know this woman. If that was your question."

"Yes, that was my question."

"What I find most important, though, is that my name is not associated with such a story. My family has an excellent reputation, and I will take all necessary steps to prevent damage to my reputation."

"Mrs. Boutroux." Nikki tried not to let on how much this woman's behavior went against the grain for her. "What you call a story could be a violent crime that your husband is involved in, whether you like it or not. Your family's reputation is one thing; our work is quite another, and when in doubt, it takes priority."

Mike's cell phone rang. He took a few steps to the side and answered the call. Nikki turned back to the woman, but her husband had already ended the phone call before she could say a word.

"The technicians from forensics. There are tons of Miriam Labo's fingerprints in the room." Mike looked at the journalist. "And yours, Mr. Upton. Did you meet with Miriam Labo in this apartment last night?"

"No!" Upton looked stunned. "I already told you I didn't know her at all. And until now, like everyone else, I was convinced that she had been dead for almost three years."

Mike looked the journalist in the eye, then nodded at Nikki. "Let's go."

Nikki couldn't resist extending her hand to Christine Boutroux. "Well then, goodbye." She had judged it right.

Hesitantly and with apparent reluctance, she put her hand in that of the detective so timidly that Nikki had the feeling she was squeezing a piece of dead flesh.

xxx

While Mike drove off, Nikki pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

Mike gave her a sidelong glance. "Well, what do you think?"

"Upton? He's lying. At least about Miriam Labo."

"I don't know. What he said could be true. That he ran into her at the event by chance."

"I don't think so, Mike. But now I'm going to call Diana Martiny again."

"Why?"

"Because my gut feeling says something that I want to check out."

"Ah, gut feeling. Trained in many lectures in Quantico."

Nikki ignored the allusion. Her husband couldn't help but rub Quantico in her face at every opportunity.

This time, she had to wait long before Diana Martiny finally picked up. "Detective Veronica O'Laighin, Boston Police Department."

"Ah ... yes ... good morning." The way Diana Martiny sounded, Nikki had woken her up.

"Do you know an actress named Miriam Labo?" Silence. Three seconds, four... not even Martiny's breathing could be heard. "Ms. Martiny?"

Again, it took a while for Martiny to respond. "Yes, Miriam was my best friend. Why do you ask about her?"

Bull's eye, Nikki thought. Her hunch had been correct. "So she was your best friend. Do you know where she might have been since she disappeared?"

"That... what is that?" Martiny spoke so softly now that she was barely audible. 'Miriam is definitely dead.'

"How do you come to that assumption?"

"Because... she would never have... She would never have just disappeared without telling me. And if she had, she would have contacted me. I'm sure of that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"If she were still alive, she would know how much I'm suffering from her disappearance. She wouldn't be able to bear it. She would have sent me a sign of life, so I know she's okay."

"Ms. Martiny, the blood in your apartment is definitely Miriam Labo's. We also found her fingerprints everywhere. So, we can say with a fair degree of certainty that the woman was in your apartment. And either seriously injured or even killed there."

"What... are you saying?" A whisper, barely audible. "Miriam? In my apartment? But that... that can't be --" Her voice broke, and she sobbed.

Nikki gave Martiny a moment. If the woman was playing a part, she was highly talented. "Ms. Martiny?"

It took a while for Martiny to answer. "Yes?"

"This may be about the murder of your friend. So I'll ask you again: you're sure you haven't heard from her since Miriam disappeared two and a half years ago?"

"Yes." Sobbing.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to get back to you. You may have to come to Boston."

"Just a moment --"

"Yes?"

"You asked me who had a key to my apartment ... Miriam had one. I'd completely forgotten about that because she --"

"Have you had the lock changed since then?"

"No."

"Good, thanks." Nikki ended the call and put the cell phone away. "Diana Martiny remembered that the victim had a key to the apartment. That explains the lack of signs of a break-in. She also claims not to know where Miriam Labo was the whole time. Sounds like she's telling the truth."

Mike braked before a red light that had just turned red and let out a humorless laugh. "Which doesn't exactly make things easier. We're dealing with a hell of a lot of unanswered questions. Why did the woman disappear? Where was she? If she was murdered in that apartment, how did the perpetrator manage to get her out of there without anyone noticing?"

"And the fascinating part –" Nikki clicked her tongue. "Where is the body hidden, and who is the culprit?"