Rachel appeared in the doorway.

“Well?”

“She’s not answering.”

“So call the store.”

I went down the hall to the living room, where the reception was best.

Rachel’s purse hung on a hook by the door, her car keys in the bowl beneath it.

A grocery receipt stuck out of her purse, and the top line said twelve rolls.

I found the number for Lauren’s store in my contacts and dialed.