She’d made that point twice now. I knew this must feel important to her. “He misses you, too. So does your mom.”

Watching her expression, I was reminded of the instant when all the lights snap off during a power failure. Holly was comfortable talking about her father, but her mother, their primary caregiver, was off-limits. Since I had a strong suspicion her sleeplessness was connected to Wendy’s disappearance, I made one more attempt to help her open up.

“Missing people is natural. And you weren’t expecting your mom to be gone, so that’s especially hard to get used to.”

Holly met my eyes. “You don’t get used to some things, even if they happen a lot.”

We underestimate children, assuming their inability to express feelings means they don’t have them. I’d just seen a demonstration.

“You’re right.” I reached out and ruffled her hair. “I bet the times when your daddy is home are the very best times for you.” When I waited and nothing else was forthcoming, we launched into measuring the spices we needed for the quinoa.

An hour later we let ourselves into the house in Gulf Sands, casserole dish in hands, along with more vegan cookies, this time chocolate chip to go with raspberry ice I’d picked up at the natural foods store.

My father eyed the dinner suspiciously, but snatched a cookie and told the girls he’d supervise them in the pool if they wanted to swim. I’d insisted they wear their bathing suits to the house, and surprisingly, they agreed.

My mother watched as the three went out to the pool.

“You’re good for them.” She turned, hands on hips. “When they were staying here, I tried everything to get them in the water.”

I was startled by the compliment. “They’re loosening up. They helped make dinner and did the cookies almost by themselves.”

“Did I just hear a dog bark?”

I had left Bismarck in the car for the moments it had taken to bring the food into the house. “We have a surprise for you.” Before she could respond I left and came back a few minutes later with Bismarck on a leash.

“Remember this guy?”

My mother slapped her hands on her hips again. “Is that the same dog? Teo’s police dog?”

I motioned for Biz to sit beside me. “Bismarck, remember my mother?”

“You and Teo...?”

“Spoke just long enough for him to agree to rent me Bismarck.”

“Rent?”

“I wasn’t really in a position to ask for a favor, was I? But I like the idea of having a dog in the house. It makes me feel safe.”

I waited for her to tell me to get the dog out of her house.

“This is the same dog who...”

“He and Teo retired together. Teo’s leg was amputated.”

My mother closed her eyes a moment. “Dear God.”

“I know, but he’s doing great.” I heard myself adding, “It should have been me.”

“Stop that. All of you, including this dog, were just doing your jobs. And the man who caused all this pain got what he deserved.”