“This is Detective Morgan from the Baywood Police Department. Would you have a few minutes that I could ask you a couple questions in relation to the Lakeside Learning Center?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You have a daughter in the three-and early four-year-old room, right?”

“Right. Jenna.”

“On Wednesday, you signed her into her room at 7:14. Does that ring a bell?”

“Yes.”

“Great. When you arrived, do you recall seeing anyone in the lobby area, either near the office area or even in the larger play space?”

“There were people coming and going, about the same as usual. It’s sort of a common drop-off time. People trying to get to work by 8:00, I guess.”

“Did you see anybody who looked out of place or odd, like they didn’t belong there?”

“If I’d have seen anything like that, I’d have already said something to somebody.”

“Of course,” Rena said. “But I just have to ask the question. How about teachers or staff employed by the center? Were any of them in the lobby?”

“No. I’m confident of that.”

“Okay. One last question, do you know Elaine Broadstreet?”

“That’s Emma’s grandma, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

“I don’t know her but I’d recognize her. She’s always very friendly.”

“Do you recall seeing her on Wednesday morning?”

“I never saw her or Emma.”

Rena thanked the woman and hung up the phone. She tried to hang on to what A.L. had said, that they perhaps couldn’t see incremental gain but with every conversation they had to be getting closer. But it was hard. It seemed as if Emma Whitman was truly just gone.

She drew in a breath and looked up the next number.

A.L. called Rena from his vehicle. “How’s it going?”

“I’ve managed to get ahold of four of the five parents who dropped kids off around the same time as Emma,” she said. “I didn’t get anything from anybody.”

“There’s always one more.”

“Actually two. There is one parent who didn’t indicate a drop-off time who we should probably contact.”

“Okay. I can work on those. But for now, I want to swing by and pick you up. We need to visit Garage on Division.”

“I was hoping I could go home smelling like oil tonight. People really don’t realize how glamorous police work is,” Rena said.

“And they don’t give a shit,” A.L. said. “See you in fifteen.”

Rena was standing outside holding two cups of coffee when A.L. pulled up. She got in and handed A.L. one.

“Thank you,” he said.

“How were the Whitmans? Leah videotaping or sabotaging anybody new?”

“She thought she heard Emma crying in her room last night.”

“Christ. Sorry, it was a bad joke. I hate this.”