"We're with the FBI," Nicky said. "We were hoping to ask you a few questions about your daughter."

Linda's face twisted. "What? Did you find something out about Meghan?

Im afraid not, maam, Nicky said. But Meghans case has been officially handed over to the FBI, and we were hoping to learn as much as we can from you. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

Linda was flustered, but she said, "The kitchen. Follow me."

They followed her through the diner to the back, where a door led to the kitchen. They passed through a small hallway and then entered the kitchen. As she led them back, the smell was even stronger: bacon, eggs, and fresh bread. The kitchen was a small one, with a narrow counter along the wall and stools in front of it.

There, they sat down at a small table with Linda.

"I'm sorry we have to do this," Nicky said. "This must be difficult for you."

"I thought I was done with this," Linda said, lowering her head. "I thought this was over. I thought I could put it behind me. I thought my daughter couldn't be found."

"I know this is hard," Nicky said. "But we can't go forward with our investigation without your help. We do believe there's a chance your daughter could be found alive."

Suddenly, a man burst into the room. Nicky recognized him as Meghan's father, Terry Salinger. He had a wild look in his eyes, and he was panting heavily. Terry looked like he'd lost his mind. He looked at the three of them, his eyes going from person to person, then back to Nicky. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, his voice sounding out-of-breath. "We already talked to everyone we could about our daughter. If you're here to traumatize my wife more, I won't have it!"

Nicky held her hands up. "We're not here to cause you more harm, sir. We just have questions."

"Who the hell are you people?" Terry demanded.

Nicky introduced herself and Ken again. "We're part of a special task force--"

"That only exists to make families suffer!" Terry roared. He was a big man, with a barrel chest. He had a thick, dark mustache and a shaved head. "You're probably here to tell me you're doing nothing! That you screwed up, and now you want to pump my wife for information when our daughter is gone!"

"Mr. Salinger--"

"She's dead, damn it! She's gone, and there's nothing more we can do!" He picked up a plate from the rack and went to throw it. Nicky braced herself--but Terry caught himself and stopped, taking a deep breath. He put the plate down. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut in two.

"What makes you so sure Meghan is dead?" Nicky cautiously asked.