He’d been so deep in his own failure it took him a sec to remember who the Dentons were. The owners of Funtime. Her excitement sparked his.

“Tell me,” he said.

“They were members at the same church. When Lexie’s father was alive, the Pine family went to Funtime almost every Sunday. They’d have a picnic, let Lexie ride the carousel, and eat pink and yellow cotton candy. She didn’t like the blue. The families were close. So close they gave Coral a job at Funtime after her husband died.”

Her information was so detailed. “You talked to them.”

“I talked to her. Mariah. Her husband is deceased. I did use your inheritance story, so thanks for that. She’s in her eighties but still has her own apartment in an assisted-living place in Dawsonville. You know where that is?”

“I do,” he said, but she was still talking.

“She moved there to be near her sister’s children and grands. That’s all I got, because she has a hard time on the phone. Her hearing isn’t good. But she knows that Coral is sick. You understand? That means she talked to her after the diagnosis. If you drive over, she says she’ll talk to you.”

He was already turning the car around. “This late?”

“Yes. Her place has its own entry, and she sets her own hours, she says. She’s feisty! She told me, ‘Honey, don’t you know old ladies never sleep?’ She’ll be up if you can get there before midnight.”

He could be there by eleven-thirty if he gunned it.

“You are amazing,” he told her.

“I know,” she said, cocky. It made him grin, reenergized. “So are you. We’re going to get Robert back, Marshall.”

As he got off the phone, he was praying she was right. He drove southwest in the darkness, and her hope stayed with him. Gabrielle had found a close family friend. A former employer. One who had known child Lexie. Sober Lexie. One who’d been in contact with Coral Pine after her diagnosis. She might straight-up know or at least have a damn good guess where Lexie was. She would definitely know Lexie’s pre-addiction safe spots, friends, contacts. His odds had just dropped from lotto level to a long shot in a horse race. He could work with that.

Speeding toward an interview that seemed like something solid, he felt as if a heavy cloud of fog had cleared. In the space he found himself thinking of Trey’s story.