“Okay.” He picked up her pen and began to make notes in the margin of the list he’d printed out. “If she started med school directly after graduation, that means she was a first-year student two and a half years ago. LJM S&R was established in January of last year, so if we assume that’s when she went missing, she took HGA this past fall, fall a year ago, or fall two years ago.”

“Not this past fall,” she corrected, taking the pen and circling one of the businesses. “‘APG White Coat Distribution.’ She would have received her white coat for finishing her first year. So we’ve narrowed down when she took HGA to either one or two years ago.”

“I’d forgotten about the white coat thing,” he murmured.

“I didn’t. The white coat ceremony was a huge milestone. It would have been for her, too.” She shook her head, staring at the list, which made so much sense in one respect and so little in others. “But I still don’t understand why whoever set up these companies left all these clues—especially the ‘Brothers Grim.’ If we’re able to track LJM down, we can figure out whoever it was who built this tangled mess.”

Diesel shrugged. “Like I said before, maybe they’re hiding in plain sight. And maybe they don’t think anyone will go to the trouble of dissecting all this.” He grinned abruptly. “Are you sure that you really want to be a doctor? You’re looking like you’re enjoying this detective gig.”

She’d stiffened at the first part of his question, but relaxed when she realized he was teasing. And once again, not criticizing. “I like puzzles, but the thought of the physical danger is enough to send me running back to sick patients and insurance paperwork.”

Just then, the basement door flew open and Michael strode through, determination on his tear-streaked face and Hawkeye on his heels. In his cupped hands, he held tiny pieces of paper, ripped into what looked like confetti.

Before Dani or Diesel could say a word, Meredith appeared, her face serene. It was a mask she wore when her emotions threatened to tear her apart. Which was usually the case after she’d talked to children who were hurting.

Meredith silently followed Michael, reaching into the cupboard for a glass mixing bowl, into which he dumped the paper. She put the bowl into the sink, then looked over her shoulder.

“Matches?” she asked Dani.

“Second drawer on your right,” Dani said, reading between the lines. Michael and Meredith had talked, and the scraps of paper were the remnant of that conversation. Meredith knew a few signs, but she was far from fluent, so they’d communicated via paper and pen.