“I know you mean well,” Iris says, “but you walking around with a gun is going to make people nervous.”

“I saw Danielle. So did you. Someone killed her in an incredibly vicious, painful manner. I am not going to let that happen again.”

“You didn’t give a statement to Detective Ponder tonight.” Iris looks at Carrie.

“I’m going in tomorrow to do that.”

“Will you mention your previous business relationship with Danielle?”

“I feel there’s a misunderstanding,” Carrie says. “Danielle was helping us again.”

“What?”

“It’s true we hired her a while back and our applications were rejected.” Steve Butler clears his throat; his pale skin reddens in embarrassment.

Iris thinks: They might not have met an income requirement. Or it might be that they were older than most families that were trying to adopt. All sorts of prejudices, varying from country to country about which kinds of Americans could adopt, but it was down to Danielle to be the unfortunate messenger. It was a side of her job Iris had never appreciated, saying to someone, No, you’re not getting a child. I’m sorry. Crushing all their hopes and aspirations and their future in one heartless moment. What had that been like? What would the reaction be? Accepting heartbreak, or hatred?

She looks for an answer in their faces. Steve is flushed; Carrie seems defiant.

Steve clears his throat again. “I had financial difficulties. I had a gambling problem. It was nothing Carrie did, the responsibility was all mine. I thought once we had a child again, I would stop. I had it backward, of course.” Carrie takes his hand. “It became clear to the authorities in China and Uganda from our financial records that there was an issue, and that’s why we were told no. I’ve been going to therapy and I’m no longer gambling. I’ve got a good job with a software company—I work with Matt Sifowicz; that’s why we were out running together—and we’re stable now. So Danielle said she’d help us. She had a lead on a couple of likely adoption possibilities for us.”

“I didn’t know she had taken you back on as clients.” The old email from Danielle was half the story.

Unless the Butlers were lying.

“Why would you?” Carrie says. “It’s none of your business. Did Danielle normally discuss clients with you?”

“No. And she didn’t discuss this with me. She told a friend. Because she said in an email that you had been terrible to her.”

“So much for confidentiality,” Carrie says. “We were angry. We apologized. She accepted. It’s what grown-ups do.”