“When you came uninvited to the apartment this morning, did you or did you not arrange an assignation for Trina?” Renee demanded.

“Grow up,” I snapped. “I don’t know where Benji is, nor Catherine. Stop casting around for who to blame for her disappearance and tell me what you’re doing to find her.”

“Edwards is using his private security connections,” his mother said bitingly. “They’re likely to shoot her if they see her. If you were looking for her, where would you start?”

“Nowhere I’d tell either of you,” I said nastily, and closed my phone. “They have a private security force out looking for her,” I turned to Father Lou. “That really scares me.”

“Girl adored her grandfather, isn’t that what you told me the other day? Maybe they had some special place. Everyone goes to ground where they feel secure; place connected to her grandfather would feel secure to her.”

“He’s got advanced Alzheimer’s. He won’t be able to tell me-never mind. I know who can. I’ll call you from the car.”

I ran from the school.

CHAPTER 50

Loves’ Labors Lost

North of Madison, Wisconsin, a freezing rain began to fall. The interstate turned glassy on the overpasses; I had to keep my speed down to stay in control. Except for the occasional giant rig charging through the slush at eighty, we had the road pretty much to ourselves.

Geraldine Graham was snoring lightly in the seat next to me. She had insisted on coming: she still had keys to the cottage-she had found them easily, in a drawer in her bedroom, and put them into a black Hermes bag that rested now at her feet. I tried to force her to stay home, but she said she knew the route, which I didn’t, and more important, at least to her, she needed to make sure Benji and Catherine were all right. “If I’d told you these things last week, they might not be in danger now.”

When I’d reached Anodyne Park, Lisa had answered the bell-bustling, officious: you can’t come in, Madam is resting. I pushed her aside and strode down the hall, opening doors. I found Geraldine dozing on her bed with a reading light on and a book open beneath her fingers.

Lisa darted in under my arm. “Oh, madam, this detective is here, breaking in. Shall I call Mr. Darraugh or Mr. Julius?”

Geraldine sat up with a start. “Lisa! Stop dithering. The detective? Mr. Darraugh’s detective is here? Oh, there you are, young woman. Wait while I collect myself.”

I knelt next to her. “Something urgent has come up. I need your help; I don’t need you to put your clothes on.”

“Grant me the foibles of my upbringing, young woman. I think better while dressed than naked. I will be with you directly.”

I walked impatiently up and down the hall outside her room, but she was, in fact, remarkably quick, despite her age and Lisa’s interference, and in a few minutes was talking to me in her alcove in the sitting room. I told her I was going to tell her things that were utterly confidential and that Lisa could not be a party to them. After a look at my face, Geraldine summarily dismissed her maid. Lisa gave me the kind of expression that makes you glad a handgun isn’t backing it up, but she retreated.