Ethan stepped closer to Ivy, put his hand on her shoulder. “Ivy and Sutton are very close. She’s been helping me search for Sutton.”

Officer Graham looked at him again, this time with wariness on her lovely face. He dropped his hand, in case it looked bad. He wouldn’t want her to think there was anything untoward happening with Ivy.

“Was she suicidal? Being treated with medication?”

“Not now. No. Other than the incident with her publisher, she’s been fine.” A lame word, fine. What did it really mean?

“If she’s fine, recovered from these two blows, as Ms. Brookes calls them, why do you think she harmed herself? Why now? Why not right after the baby died, or when she lost her contract?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s confusing for me, too. Sutton went off the rails after Dashiell died. Not that I blamed her. She was very distraught.”

“And how were you after this unfortunate incident, Mr. Montclair? Did you cope well with your son’s death?”

The police officer had pretty eyes, hazel, changeable. They’d softened when she’d heard about Dashiell’s death. She wore the barest hint of pink lipstick. He wondered what she was like in the sack. She seemed like she might be a wild one. The sweet ones usually were; she had that look.

“I coped,” he said, cringing a bit at how sharp he sounded. “It was difficult, of course. You shouldn’t have to bury a child. Not only did I lose Dashiell, I lost Sutton, as well. After the baby...died, she went to a very dark place. We feared for her life. Then this fuss with the reviewer happened. We had to have her committed. Please keep that between us. She is very ashamed of her breakdown. Very upset. It’s been a difficult time. But she’d managed to pull herself back from the brink. She was getting better.”

Ivy shifted next to him. “I think we’re all simply concerned she wasn’t bouncing back the way we thought. She could hide her despair very well when she needed to.”

The young cop tapped her finger against her gun strap. Tap, tap, tap. It was the sergeant who said, “Mr. Montclair, please be straight with us. Do you think your wife is taking a break from the marriage, or are you reporting her missing because you’re afraid she may have harmed herself?”

Ethan heaved out a sigh. “Officers, let me be very clear. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

He cracked then, finally. The tears began. “I can’t lose her, Officers. Not after losing Dashiell, too. Please, help me find my wife.”

H. Graham held out a hand as if to touch him, to comfort him, but stopped, realizing it made her look unprofessional.

Robinson came to life in the corner. “I think this should cover it. What do you say, Roy? Should we mount a search? Might put everyone’s minds at ease.”

Moreno looked from Ethan to Robinson and back again. “We’ll look into this and get back to you. No sense wasting resources if the lady doesn’t want to be found.”