Aha, I said. I knew most of the kids in the area, but not their parents. But this one was apparently the mother of the faintly sleazy eleven-year-old boy next door, and his nearly always-absent older brother. Since that meant she was probably not carrying a car bomb or a vial of anthrax, I smiled and went back to the table with Cody and Astor.

Jason’s at band camp, she said. Nick is lounging around the house trying to reach puberty so he can grow a mustache.

Oh Lord, Rita said.

Nicky is a creep, Astor whispered. He wanted me to pull down my pants so he could see. Cody stirred his frozen yogurt into a frozen pudding.

Listen, Rita, I’m sorry to bother you at dinnertime, Kathy said.

We just finished. Would you like some coffee?

Oh, no, I’m down to one cup a day, she said. Doctor’s orders. But it’s about our dog—I just wanted to ask if you had seen Rascal? He’s been missing for a couple of days now, and Nick is so worried.

I haven’t seen him. Let me ask the kids, Rita said. But as she turned to ask, Cody looked at me, got up without a sound, and walked out of the room. Astor stood up, too.

We haven’t seen him, she said. Not since he knocked over the trash last week. And she followed Cody out of the room. They left their desserts on the table, still only half eaten.

Rita watched them go with her mouth open, and then turned back to her neighbor. I’m sorry, Kathy. I guess nobody’s seen him. But we’ll keep an eye open, all right? I’m sure he’ll turn up, tell Nick not to worry. She prattled on for another minute with Kathy, while I looked at the frozen yogurt and wondered what I had just seen.

The front door closed and Rita came back to her cooling coffee. Kathy’s a nice person, she said. But her boys can be a handful. She’s divorced, her ex bought a place in Islamorada, he’s a lawyer? But he stays down there, so Kathy’s had to raise the boys alone and I don’t think she’s very firm sometimes. She’s a nurse with a podiatrist over by the university.

And her shoe size? I asked.

Am I blathering? Rita asked. She bit her lip. I’m sorry. I guess I was just worrying a little bit . . . I’m sure it’s just . . . She shook her head and looked at me. Dexter. Did you—

I never got to find out if I did, because my cell phone chirped. Excuse me, I said, and I went over to the table by the front door where I had left it.