As usual, listings in Caerphilly were few, and mostly in the pricier sections of town. Aha! I found one—no, two—in Westlake, where Nadine lived. I printed them out and tucked them in my purse. And while I was at it, I shuffled through the recycling stack until I found the real estate section from Sunday’s copy of the Caerphilly Clarion and circled the two Westlake listings.

I had a plan for the day.

Twenty-Seven

Okay, it wasn’t much of a plan, but I was running out of places to look for Karen. So first I’d head over to the campus and drop by Renfrew’s bookstore, which was famous for its large periodical selection, to get some magazines about pet birds. Then check out Nadine’s neighborhood—under the guise of house hunting for Rob.

Of course, since Rob had disappeared, taking Spike with him, I couldn’t enlist him to ride shotgun with me. Maybe Spike was just camouflage, and avoiding me—and Timmy—was the real reason for Rob’s disappearance.

Well, never mind. I could enlist Rose Noire instead. We could always say that we were doing the first round of house-hunting for Rob. If we ran into anyone who actually knew him, that would sound a lot more plausible anyway.

I went back outside to talk her into it. To my relief, the snake truck was gone, and Dad and Dr. Blake with it. Rose Noire looked happier, too, probably because Timmy had given up trying to go sheepback riding and was writhing in the grass, doing a pretty fair imitation of a snake.

“Oh, that’s such a good idea,” Rose Noire said, when I explained my plan. “I have a lot of ideas about how to help you! Just wait a minute while I gather a few things.”

Actually, it took her closer to half an hour, and apparently her ideas were mostly aimed at Timmy’s well-being rather than my quest to find Karen or figure out what had happened to her.

She immediately took charge of improving Timmy’s environment—replacing Led Zeppelin with some kind of New Age CD, full of flutes and chimes.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I said. “What if I fall asleep at the wheel?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “This isn’t relaxation music. It’s supposed to stimulate your mental and physical acuity.”

It sounded the same as the relaxing, sleep-inducing CDs she’d given me a few months before, but she was the expert.

“I thought that might be helpful if you’re doing some kind of sleuthing,” she added. “And of course, it’s so important to make sure a child’s brain receives proper stimulation, don’t you think? Especially during those all-important, formative preschool years.”

“Want Zeppewin,” Timmy said.

On the way into town, Rose Noire attempted additional brain stimulation with a set of flash cards about colors and shapes. Timmy was having none of it.

“Timmy, what shape is this?” she asked, holding up a green square.

“Horsie,” Timmy said.

“No, Timmy, it’s a square,” she said. “Square. And what color is the square?”