A Wrongful Death by Kate Wilhelm

Christmas. At the door on his way out, he stopped and glowered at her. "You'd better plan to stay around for awhile."
    "No travel plans in sight," she said. His frown deepened and he stomped out.
    "Funny, isn't it?" Barbara commented. "This might be the first time in our cordial relationship that I came absolutely clean the first time around with him, and he didn't believe a word I said. So much for sticking to the truth."
    Bailey downed the same drink he had been nursing all evening and set the glass on the table. "You want what I have now, or wait for morning?"
    "Now, by all means," Barbara said and Frank nodded.
    "Just the high points," Bailey said. "Elizabeth Littleton Kurtz. Thirty-four. Master's degree in zoology from Stanford. Undergrad at Johns Hopkins. National Science Merit Scholarship winner. Married Terry Kurtz in Spain about six years ago, divorced roughly two years later. Their son was six months old. Works as an editor for a publisher of science books, text books. Mother from Spain, father an undersecretary or something at the UN until his death when she was about eleven. Mother back in Spain now, remarried." He paused a second or two, then continued in the same kind of rapid-fire, nearly staccato recitation. "Leonora Carnero, also thirty-four, mother Puerto Rican, dad American. Mother took off when she was twelve, and she moved in with Elizabeth and her mother and grew up in their household. Divorced, lives in same apartment with Elizabeth. Works for an insurance group."
    He gave Barbara a knowing look. "Elizabeth knew how to hide. Took off from her job, left the city with son Jason back in October and not a trace of her until she showed up in that cabin. If that was her. No credit card, no cell phone use, nothing, zilch."
    "Your guys in New York looked beyond the obvious?" Barbara asked. "Not much time to check cell phone and such."
    "There was time, especially when nothing was showing up. No airline reservations, train reservations, bus tickets in her name. Like I said. Nothing."
    "She must have driven, used cash everywhere," Barbara said after a moment. "She knew someone was looking for her."
    "After withdrawing ten grand in New York, she sold a BMW in Philadelphia, got cash, so she had plenty with her. Probably paid cash for something else somewhere else and headed for the west coast," Bailey said with a shrug.
    "What about the company?" Frank asked. "Anything there?"
    "Not much. Henry Diedricks started it, and apparently his inventions, innovations, whatever, made him famous in the prosthetics sphere. He's from Portland, the company started there, and the research and development bunch is still there. They opened a production plant in New Jersey seven or eight years ago, and moved corporate headquarters to New York City. Business is booming. Diedricks is out of the picture, old, demented, in a wheelchair, blind. Two kids. Daughter Sarah married Joseph Kurtz, a researcher in charge of R&D. She's a social creature, has nothing to do with the business apparently, and her son Terry is the original best catch bachelor of the year, even if he has been married. Diedricks's son Lawrence runs the sales department, hangs out on the East Coast for the most part. Kurtz was back and forth a lot over the years. He died in November. The whole family is in the state for now. They came for the funeral and are hanging around."
    Neither Barbara nor her father had any significant questions. They both knew Bailey's full report would have whatever details his New York contacts had been able to provide.
    "Okay," Barbara said, "let's call it a day. Tomorrow, the possible phone tap, and the Knowltons, all of them. The plane arrival time, if she rented a car." She glanced at Frank. "Anything else?"
    He nodded. "Check all the phones, her apartment included," he said to Bailey, motioning toward Barbara. "And this one. She'll stay here tonight."
    "Dad—"
    He leveled his gaze at her. "Someone's putting a lot of resources into whatever