And if that billy goat won’t pull, Mama’s gonna buy you a cart and bull. And if that cart and bull turn over, Mama’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

Shadows. Floating down the hall, slipping through the door. Follow me, follow me. I do.

And if that dog named Rover won’t bark, Mama’s gonna buy you a horse and cart. And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

Shadows. Pulling, tugging, yanking, wanting. I do, I do.

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Hush, hush, hush …

D.D. watched Danielle with growing suspicion.

“Did you check the solarium?” the nurse was asking the gym-coach MC. “Behind the palm trees?”

“First stop we made.”

“And you’ve done the entire floor? Inside cabinets, behind wardrobes, beneath bathroom sinks?”

“Yes.”

“And how long has Lucy been missing?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes? You kept this to yourself for twenty minutes?”

“Hey, you’re sequestered with a bunch of detectives, and it’s not like we haven’t searched for a kid before. The staff’s been on it. We’ve done this floor, the solarium, and a quick tour through the hospital halls. No dice. It’s time to alert the medical center’s security, so here I am, telling you what you need to know.”

“We’ll help,” D.D. said.

Danielle and the gym coach turned to stare at her. If anything, they both grew more irritated.

“We can handle this,” Danielle said tightly.

“Really? Then where’s the kid?”

Danielle thinned her lips and looked like she wanted to hit something. Preferably, D.D.D.D. spread her hands. “Sounds like you need to launch a search—right?—while also managing the unit. You need bodies. Here’s a news flash: We’re four bodies who all have experience looking for missing people. Don’t be an idiot. Let us help.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Danielle muttered.

D.D. smiled. “All right,” she announced briskly, taking control of the situation. Phil was walking down the hall, holding a stack of paperwork. She waved him over, and her squad clustered around the nurse and MC. “Who are we looking for? Description?”

“Nine-year-old female,” Danielle supplied. “Thin, with long dark hair matted around her face. Last seen wearing an oversized green surgical scrub top. She might be naked, however. She’s clothing-challenged.”

D.D. arched a brow. “You said the solarium. That mean she’s gone AWOL before?”

The nurse nodded. “Yesterday. Which is very unusual,” she added. “We have two sets of locked doors. We can’t remember a child ever getting off the floor of the PECB once, let alone twice in two days.”

“So she has some skill.”