“You may be shocked to know this,” he said sardonically. “I’m not by nature the first guy the Bureau goes looking for as an agent. But this is the work I wanted to do, and the Bureau is the place to do it. I learned to navigate the system. Remember that.”

Mendez gave him a curious look. “Why are you telling me this?”

“’Cause you’re good, kid. You’re sharp. I want you to be all you can be.”

“You sound like a recruiting ad. Here’s something interesting about Farman: His son was one of the kids that found the body. Frank won’t let me talk to him.”

“Is it necessary for you to talk to him?”

“Wendy, the little girl of the group, told me Dennis touched the corpse,” Mendez said, brushing the question aside. “Frank let the kid hang around the crime scene until Dixon told him he had to send the kid home.”

“That’s a little odd.”

“I mean, he made the boy stay outside the tape, but still. Frank said the kid had already seen the body, why not let him see how a crime scene gets processed.”

“How old is the boy?”

“Ten, eleven, something like that. He’s a fifth grader. And his teacher left a message for me last night that prior to finding this body, the kid had been talking about there being bodies buried in those woods.”

“And your pal Frank hasn’t mentioned that?” Vince said.

“No.”

“He probably figures the kid was just being a kid,” Vince speculated. “But in light of what’s happened . . . you need to talk to the boy.”

They pulled into a crushed stone parking lot and got out of the car. The sprawling white stucco building in front of them wore a discreet bronze plaque near the main entrance: THE THOMAS CENTER FOR WOMEN.

Inside, the main hall was cool and welcoming, the walls a warm shade of yellow, the old Mexican paver floors polished. They went to the front desk and Mendez asked for Jane Thomas.

“Nice place,” Vince said as they waited.

“It’s an amazing place,” Mendez said. “A lot of the women come from abusive backgrounds, some are coming out of drug rehab, or even jail. The center offers counseling, helps the women prepare themselves to enter the work force. Their program has gotten a lot of national attention.”

“With one dead former employee and one missing client, they’re about to get more,” Vince said.

A tall, well-dressed blonde woman around forty emerged from an office down the hall.

“Detective Mendez?” She glanced from him to Vince and back, clearly worried they were there to deliver bad news.

“Ms. Thomas, this is—”

“Detective Leone,” Vince said, offering his hand.

“Can we speak privately with you?” Mendez asked.

“Of course.” Now she was really worried. “Come into my office.”