“Start with the obvious.” Decker tried to control the tartness of his voice. Man, he was pissed. “Tandy’s father was a lech, Marie was a wild chick. They had an affair.”

“The affair led to Tandy’s parents getting divorced and possibly to Marie Bellson’s pregnancy,” Marge stated formally.

“I like it.”

Stiffly, Marge gave a little smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Decker suddenly bit back a laugh. “All right. Let’s assume Tandy’s all pissed off at her parents’ divorce. And assume that Tandy knew that her father’s affair with Marie was what led to the divorce.”

“Then Tandy would be pissed off at Marie,” Marge said. “Not acting like Marie was her best friend.”

“Maybe she was acting all this time, Marge. Maybe Tandy had planned from the start to get Marie.”

“Pete, the trauma happened twenty years ago. Unless Tandy’s the original demon child, I can’t picture a five-year-old hatching a two-decade plot. Then we’d have to assume she knew at five that she was going to purposely become a nurse, meet Marie, become her best friend, then pin a kidnapping and murder on her.”

“You’re right. It’s absurd.”

“At least you’re capable of giving me some credit.”

“I give you credit, Dunn. But you’ve got to see it from my perspective. You and my daughter—two women out of the four I trust implicitly—are keeping secrets from me.”

“Rina’s the third—who’s the fourth?”

“My mother. Now what the hell difference does that make? Do you see my point, or don’t you?”

“I see your point. Can we move on now, please?”

“You brought it up. Why do women bring up things, then drop them when they hear what they don’t want to hear?”

“Pete—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll cool it.” Decker smoothed his mustache. “Even if Marie and Tandy’s father had an affair, what does that have to do with the price of eggs in Outer Mongolia?”

Marge said, “Let’s suppose this. Suppose Tandy’s father—”

“Guy have a first name?”

“Geoffrey spelled G-e-o-f-f-r-e-y.”

“Veddy English.”

“He’s Cuban,” Marge said.

“How’d you find that out?”

“Cindy.”

“My daughter has become a wealth of information.” Decker paused. “You think it’s a coincidence that the kidnapped baby was a Latina?”

“That’s an interesting observation.”

“I don’t know how it fits, but it’s interesting. So how did Cuban parents come to give their son a name like Geoffrey?”

“Caitlin isn’t exactly a Hispanic name. Immigrants adopt Anglo names to acculturate.” Marge flipped the pages of her notebook. “Actually, I think Tandy told Cindy her father had changed his name.”

“Geoffrey Roberts,” Decker said. “A prof. Think he still lives in Berkeley?”

“We could find out.”

“Let’s do that,” Decker said. “Where were we?”

“Still assuming that Marie Bellson and Geoffrey Roberts had an affair.”