“I still don’t like it.”

“I gather you struck out trying to find her today.”

“Worse than that. I’m starting to think maybe she had good reasons to disappear.”

As we drove along—well under the speed limit, which must have been a first for the Porsche—I brought him up to date on what I’d learned during the day.

“Not encouraging,” he murmured, when I’d finished.

“Any theories about what’s going on?” I asked.

“None that you probably haven’t already thought of,” he said. “Frankly, if I were Chief Blake and had to make sense of what you’ve learned, I’d say she’s probably involved in the embezzling scheme, realized that the police were about to close in, and decided to run. And figuring her chances of getting away were a lot better without Timmy, she found a safe place to leave him while she fled.”

My stomach clenched.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said. “I know she’s your friend.”

“You’re not saying anything I haven’t thought,” I said. “It just sounds a little worse out loud.”

“I can think of some other possible explanations.”

“Yeah, but they don’t sound too logical, do they?”

We drove on a while in silence.

When we reached the ridge that gave a view of the road, I looked for Mr. Early but it was too dark to see if he was still there or if he’d given up his vigil for the evening.

Then I noticed that our house was dark.

“That’s odd,” I said, pointing to it. “Do you suppose Rob has gotten Timmy to bed?”

“You never know. He’s really rather good with kids. I’ve seen him in action before, with your nieces and nephews. He really knows how to communicate on their level.”

“That’s because he still thinks on their level,” I said. “It’s communicating with adults he can’t handle.”

“Could be,” Michael said, with a chuckle. “At any rate, he has a weak stomach when it comes to diapers, but he’s really good at entertaining kids.”

I nodded. Good, but not very firm. I’d expected him to leave the hard work of getting Timmy to bed to Michael and me. In fact, I more than half expected to find the two of them asleep in front of the TV. But that was okay, I told myself, determined to keep my mellow, post-dinner mood as long as I could.

I lost the battle when we pulled into the driveway.

“My car’s not here,” I said. “What’s going on?”

Nineteen

As soon as the car came to a stop I jumped out and ran inside.

“Hello,” I called. “We’re home.”

No answer. I saw no one in the living room, the dining room, or the kitchen. And no notes posted anywhere to tell us where Rob had gone with Timmy. Upstairs, I peered into the bedroom where we’d set up Timmy’s portable crib. It was empty. So were all the other bedrooms on that floor and the third floor—empty of Rob and Timmy, at any rate. I found the room on the third floor in which Rob was setting up his little home away from home, and in a room at the other end of the hall was an object covered with a tarp. It turned out to be a cage containing six brightly colored birds, all fast asleep. They stirred slightly when I lifted one edge of the tarp, and one of them uttered a faint squawk before settling back into slumber.