“Yeah, most don’t. But my sister-in-law is a total type A and believes in leading by example. She’s working.”

“Okay. Don’t call her to warn her. That will spoil the plan.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

A.L. walked directly to the bank of elevators on the far right side. He got in and pushed 3. When the doors opened, there was a reception desk immediately in front of the elevators. Nobody could miss it. And nobody could get by it without being seen.

The VPs evidently didn’t want to have unexpected visitors.

He smiled at the middle-aged woman behind the desk. “Tamara Federer, please.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

He pulled a business card. “No. But I am going to need to see her.”

The woman picked up his card. Studied the info. “Just one minute, Detective. You can have a seat in the waiting area.”

The chairs on the third floor were a soft brown leather, nicer than the green fabric chairs that he’d seen in the downstairs lobby. He took a seat.

Tamara didn’t make him wait long. He heard her heels before he saw her. She rounded the corner, wearing a black pantsuit that looked good on her. She seemed young for a VP, maybe just midthirties. Her hair was platinum blond, cut short, and she wore way more makeup than he preferred. But altogether, she was a professional package.

She extended a hand. “Detective McKittridge, I’m Tamara Federer.”

“Thanks for seeing me.”

“Of course.”

“Do you have someplace where we might talk in private?” he asked.

“Follow me,” she said. She led him down a long hallway, in the opposite direction of where she’d come from. She opened the door to a small conference room. He took a seat in another really good-looking leather chair. This one swiveled.

She sat, too, at the head of the table. “What can I help you with?” she asked.

“I want to talk with you about Steven Hanzel.”

“Steven Hanzel who works here at Baywood Bank?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes. I understand that you’re his supervisor.”

“I am. I... I guess you’ve caught me a little off-guard. In the past, I’ve had the opportunity to talk to the police just twice, and both times they had questions about customers. This is the first time I’ve had someone ask questions about an associate and I have to admit, it doesn’t feel good.”

“Please don’t read too much into my questions,” he said. “I am investigating the disappearance of Emma Whitman. I imagine you’ve heard about it.”

“It’s all anyone is talking about. I have a niece, she’s just a year younger, who goes to that same day care.”

A.L. kept his face blank.

“I told my sister-in-law that she should think about changing providers. I mean, really, what kind of place just lets a five-year-old walk out?”